


drowning in these city lights

by owilde



Series: 80s AU [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - 80's, Chance Meetings, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Lightwood Siblings Feels, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Robert Lightwood Being an Asshole, Romance, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000, as slow burn as i get meaning not very, not aiming for perfect historical accuracy but kinda, references to the AIDS crisis, social commentary done poorly by the author, some religious themes, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owilde/pseuds/owilde
Summary: Alec had never expected much, had never found a reason to do so— so when he turns twenty-one, in the fall of 1987, he doesn't expect for much to change, despite what everyone keeps telling him.Then he meets someone and suddenly, there's a reason to expectsomething.





	1. owner of a lonely heart

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Starting another fic despite my WIP's? Yes. And this time it's an 80s AU! hahaaa i hate myself honestly but i do love 80s music sooo
> 
> Song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **Bananarama** \- Cruel Summer  
>  **Yes** \- Owner Of a Lonely Heart  
>  **Midnight Oil** \- Beds Are Burning  
>  **Survivor** \- Desperate Dreams  
>  **a-ha** \- Hunting High and Low  
>  **Level 42** \- Something About You  
>  **Talk Talk** \- Another Word  
>  **Bronski Beat** \- Smalltown Boy  
>  **Genesis** \- Land of Confusion

The weight of the patchwork quilt felt heavy against Alec's legs, despite the general lightness of it. He was leaning against the bedframe with a pillow stuffed under his lower back, his neck craned in an uncomfortable position that surely meant he'd be complaining about a crick for the following couple of days at the very least.

His body felt like lead – heavy and tired, and aching, though he hadn't even been outside in as many as three days. Jace would've made fun of him, had he known – ' _you haven't seen the sun in days, old man'._ This, despite him being only two years younger than Alec.

The book in his hands had remained untouched the past hour, no pages turned. Alec re-read the same sentence he'd started what felt like a million times already, but lost focus halfway through and gave up once more, letting his gaze flicker up to stare at the ceiling, instead.

There were cracks, spreading like webs from the corner where wall met ceiling and reaching halfway across the surface. Alec wasn't quite sure where they'd come from – his room was upstairs, with only the roof above, and he couldn't recall any occasions which would've warranted the damages. He chose to blame Jace.

A sigh escaped his lips, too loud in the quiet of the room.

Despite what he'd been told by what felt like the entire population of New York, his life had not drastically changed since he'd turned 21 the previous week. In fact, it seemed, nothing had changed at all. He stayed inside, he read, he went for walks. He met Aline once a week to get away from the restrictedness of his home life, the oftentimes inescapable feeling of being in a cage with no way out – Aline understood.

Their conversations often veered into fantasies halfway through, and especially with some drinks in – imagine running away, hopping in to a bus and travelling, halfway across the country, being free; imagine joining the hippies, the punkers, the goths; imagine swimming across the Atlantic Ocean, into Europe, into Paris, into  _anywhere_ ; imagine, imagine, imagine. And in each scenario, they were free, and happy, and invincible against the rest of the world.

But the bubble of dreams was always blown out at the end of the night, when Alec kissed her on the cheek for good night and his mother, sitting in the living room with the table light on, reading, asked, always, without a fail –  _when are you bringing her home to meet the parents?_

And always, "I'm not, mother, we're not together," and  _always_ , "She's such a sweet girl, exactly what you need."

And Alec wanted to scream, wanted to yell until his lungs burst,  _what do you know about what I need? What do you know about_ me _, you've never known, I've never told you, and this wall that separates us is too solid for us to keep pretending it doesn't exist._

But he never did, and she never yelled back, and in the end, he climbed up the stairs into his room and fell asleep to the sounds of music because he refused to be a cliché, no crying yourself to sleep, not in his room, never.  _Lightwoods don't cry._

Alec discarded the book with a scoff, not bothering to mark the page. He slid downwards until he was flat on his back, the softness of the mattress enveloping him, coaxing him to close his eyes. He did – the darkness felt welcome. From behind his closed lids he could still see the light, emanating from the lamp on his desk, soft hues of orange against the black.

 _Is this it?_ He thought, his tone bitter even to his own ears. Was this all his life was ever going to be, constant pretending and acting, facades better than those trained actors had, because, he realized, this wasn't a job – this was survival. He played the role of the perfect son, and he played it well, and he ignored the toll it was taking on him, and he always would, because—

What else was there?

Leading a double life, for sure, but he hadn't the guts for it, nor the dedication, nor the desire—or, well,  _desire_ , yes, but… he was barely holding everything together right now, with things being as they were – he wasn't capable of building a life outside of his family and keeping it from them. Not for long, not here.

Alec opened his eyes. He could hear noises coming from downstairs, the front door opening and closing, keys clinging. There was faint giggling, which made Alec frown. Hushed talking, not audible enough for Alec to be able to deduce what was being said. Soon enough there were footsteps, climbing up the stairs – Alec recognized the familiar creaking of the fifth step before the floor.

There was a knock on his door, and Alec sat up, slowly. His back ached, his shoulders felt tense. Alec glanced around the room. His closet door was shut, his books were in order – he spied at the titles, inconspicuously hidden between the other novels;  _Maurice_ ,  _Better Angel, The Charioteer,_ all bought in secrecy from his parents and read under the covers at night, hungry and starving to see himself on the pages, to glimpse at a world which welcomed him as a part of it.

Funny, how his parents knew so little of the son they claimed to love.

His window was open, and Alec saw the sun was setting, casting a pink hue over the buildings, colouring the clouds like marshmallows. Warm wind blew in. He walked over to the door, pulling it open.

Izzy was standing there, looking like she was ready to go out – or like she  _had_ just been out.

"Hey," Izzy said with a grin, and pushed herself into the room, shouldering Alec on the way. He closed the door behind her and turned around just in time to catch her sitting on the edge of his bed, bouncing her legs with excitement. He sat down by his desk, looking at her with a small smile on his face.

"How was school?" Alec asked.

Izzy waved her hand dismissively, tousling her already tousled up hair. "Great, great. Drew said—well, never mind what Drew said." She looked at him, her grin growing alongside with Alec's sense of dread. "Me and Clary – you know her, Fray, she's been around – anyway, we're going out."

Alec nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, sceptically. "And you're looking at me like that because – why?"

She chuckled. " _Well,_ " she started, "I know for a fact you've not been out to celebrate your birthday yet. And I know, also, that you're starting to rot inside this room. And, hence, I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to come out with me and Clare."

Alec's stomach flipped uncomfortably. Going outside was one thing – going outside, presumably to a club, was another. The thought of the sweaty crowd, the blaring pop music, the constant sense of not belonging – forever an outsider, looking inside from behind a glass window, not quite reaching anyone – didn't seem enticing.

But Izzy kept looking at him, hopeful and joyful and caring – and when had Alec ever had the heart to refuse her, when what she asked for wasn't much at all, in the big picture of life?

"Where?" He asked finally, knowing this was a lost battle.

Izzy clapped her hands, standing up. "You'll have a good time, I promise," she said, taking him by the hand and dragging him up as well. Then she looked at him over, once, and raised a brow. "Something needs to change."

Alec glanced at his outfit – washed out jeans, a simple, deep green knitted sweater – and saw no issues. Sure, there was a hole on his left knee, but he just hadn't had the time yet to sew it, and besides, no one would care, regardless.

Isabelle had deemed different. She shook her head, clicking her tongue. "No way," she stated. "We're going to borrow something from Jace, you're roughly the same size."

Alec wanted to point out that they  _weren't_ – he was a taller, and broader, and besides, Jace's wardrobe was an explosion of colours and fabrics Alec wanted nowhere near him – but before he could voice any of his thoughts out loud, Izzy was already dragging him from his room and down the hallway to Jace's.

"Where is Jace, anyway?" Alec asked as he sat cross-legged on the floor while Izzy went through Jace's clothes, mumbling to herself every few seconds.

"Out, with, uh, the girl," Izzy replied distractedly. She picked up something – a sweater similar to the one Alec was wearing – and after glancing at Alec, threw it on the floor without a word.

"The girl?" Alec raised a brow. "What a creative name she has."

Izzy snorted. "Don't get funny with me," she said, teasingly. "She's the one he met last month. You know – blonde, gorgeous, wears shoulder paddings as if they didn't go out of fashion last spring."

Alec let out an understanding 'ah'. "I see.  _Does_ she have a name?"

Izzy shrugged her shoulders, eyeing something inside the closet that Alec couldn't see. "Might've been Helga," she said. "Or—no, Helen."

Alec's eyes snapped to her, suddenly alert. "Helen? Helen Blackthorn?"

"I guess," Izzy said. She turned around to look at him, frowning. "Why, you know her?"

There was a sudden pit in his stomach. Aline had told him, had made him swear not to tell anyone— _me and Helen, we're trying it out, but it has to be a secret—_ a few weeks ago, Alec remembered vividly. They'd been drinking coffee – he'd had tea. She'd been so happy, so excited to have met someone…

But Jace seeing Helen didn't necessarily mean anything. For all Alec knew, she was using him to cover up her being with Aline. For all he knew, everything was alright.

"I, uh, yeah," he managed to say. "She's friends with Aline."

"Oh," Izzy said, sounding surprised. "I didn't know that. How nice. I'm glad Aline's making friends that aren't you – you've both always seemed quite lonely, you know. I don't understand why you two don't just have a go at it, already."

They were threading waters Alec didn't want to explore. "She's a good friend," he said, shortly, and then cleared his throat. "You find anything there?"

"Mmh," Izzy hummed, absently. "A few shirts you should try on. The jeans are alright – I mean, they're not  _great_ , but I guess they'll have to do." She threw a few garments in his general direction, and Alec caught them mid-air, noting, to his horror, the neon colours some of them sported.

"Go on," Izzy said, sitting down opposite to him. "Try them."

Alec eyed the mess of fabrics in his lap. "… Right."

Ten minutes later he had tried on three different shirts, all ranging from 'bad' to 'absolutely horrendous'. Izzy had complimented all of them, sounding genuine, but Alec was  _not_ going to go out wearing a white silk shirt with palm trees on it. He had some remnants of dignity left.

Izzy let out a sigh, flopping down on the floor. "You are  _hopeless_ ," she complained, resting her hand dramatically on her forehead.

"The only hopeless thing here is Jace's wardrobe," Alec said, crossing his arms. "All these shirts are horrible. I refuse."

"Refuse what?" Said an unfamiliar voice from the doorway. Alec glanced to his right, one brow raised.

A girl was standing there, about Izzy's age, with red hair done up in an intricate way. She was wearing blue flannel and jean shorts which Alec deemed too short for anyone going out in New York, but he figured it wasn't his place to comment on it.

"Oh, Clary, good," Izzy sighed, sitting up. "We're having an emergency."

Alec looked back at her. "I can just wear what I was wearing before  _this_ ," he said, gesturing at the velvet polo shirt currently on him.

"I can help," Clary said, stepping inside, as if Alec hadn't said anything at all.

"Yes, please," Izzy replied. She stood up, and she and Clary got to sorting through Jace's questionable shirts once more.

Approximately five minutes later Clary emerged, holding a shirt that didn't immediately send Alec into cardiac arrest at the ripe old age of twenty-one. Next to her, Izzy was holding a pair of black jeans. They both grinned in unison, glancing at each other in a way that creeped Alec out just a little bit.

"Try these," Izzy said, handing both the jeans and the shirt over to Alec.

He did.

To his amazement, the shirt – a black silk tee, with puffy sleeves and red embroidered flowers – did not look too bad. In fact, if he squinted, Alec might've said it sort of fit him, when accompanied with the black jeans with too many holes in them to not be purposeful. He turned around in front of the mirror, glanced over his shoulder, then turned back.

"Well?" Izzy asked, sitting on the floor. She looked expectant, her eyes glowing. Clary was sitting next to her, inspecting her paint-covered fingers with mild interest.

"It's alright," Alec said, shrugging. The shirt slipped lower down his shoulders. "I can wear it."

Izzy hopped up, hugging him in excitement. " _Yes_ ," she yelled, too loud – Alec covered his ear and took a step back, laughing.

"Alright, alright, are we done here now?" He asked, moving towards the door. "It's almost nine, and I do want to get back home at some point."

Izzy shot him a look of horror. "Oh, Alec," she started. "No, we're not done. Let's go to my room."

Which was, coincidentally, precisely what she needed to say to make Alec want to run into the opposite direction. As Izzy and Clary left, he remained in Jace's room, swallowing down his anxiety. It was a night out. He was twenty-one, for God's sake, he could survive  _one night out_. He'd been playing this game for so long, what was one night?

Izzy's room was downstairs – Alec stopped by his own room first, to pick up a bag for himself, before heading downstairs with a sense of dread in his stomach. The fifth stair creaked.

Once he got there, Izzy was waiting on the bed with a small bag on her lap, smiling in a way Alec assumed was supposed to be  _innocent_. She patted the space in front of her, prompting for Alec to sit down, and he did, albeit hesitantly.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing at the bag.

"Make-up," Izzy replied, her tone light and casual.

"What," Alec deadpanned, his face blank. "I'm not—I'm not wearing make-up, Izzy,  _honestly_ —"

She shrugged, opening the bag and picking up something red, along with a brush. "You are, now," she said. "Listen, it's not a big deal. I know a lot of guys who do it." She paused, taking some of the red powder on the tip of the brush. "'Sides, no one's gonna see it inside the club, anyways. Close your eyes."

Alec opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, thinking. Izzy was right – no one was going to see it. And their parents were out of town for the weekend – if he wanted to be himself, for just a millisecond, this was the time.

"Fine," he eventually grumbled, pressing his lids shut tight. "But at least use good colours."

He heard Izzy sigh, and shift closer. "Obviously," she mumbled. "Don't—you're doing it wrong,  _relax_ , you're not supposed to hold them shut like you're in pain—no, that's not really it either, just—look, just close your eyes like you normally would, okay?"

Another hour later found them walking downtown, towards a club Izzy promised had an excellent reputation in the neighbourhood and outside of it. Alec was sceptical, but he'd promised himself to at least try – try to have a good time, to enjoy himself, to be, at least for a little while – free.

The sun had already set a long time ago, and the air felt chilly with the autumn wind. They walked in tandem, with Izzy and Clary walking side by side and Alec trailing a few steps behind, hands stuffed in his pockets. They passed crowds of people, but no one paid them any mind for the most part, save for the whistles Izzy and Clary received from desperate men – each time, they retaliated with insults before Alec was able to lift a finger.

It was a ten-minute walk before they reached the club. Neon letters flashed in blue by the front of the building, loudly proclaiming the name –  _Indigo Devil –_ to anyone walking past. Alec could hear the beating of the music from the street, and his face curled into an involuntary sneer.

"Don't look too happy," Izzy laughed upon seeing him. She linked arms with him. "Let's go and have fun, yeah?"

The inside of the club was filled with smoke, highlighted in different colours by the lights flashing from the ceiling – it created a sea of rainbows, constantly changing and moving. A mass of people were occupying every inch of the room, shifting and dancing and yelling, and Alec stood by the doorway, watching.

It dawned on him, suddenly, that this was a very bad mistake. He felt Izzy's hand slip away from his, and he turned to look, brows raised.

"We're going to go dance!" Izzy yelled at him over the loud blaring of the music, and before Alec could decline – he didn't feel like dancing – she disappeared off into the crowd with Clary, and he realized she never meant to ask him at all.

He felt cold, despite the heat of the place. This wasn't Alec's crowd – far from it. His skin felt like it was crawling, but before he could turn around and leave, the influx of people pushed him further into the club.

He staggered on his feet, disoriented. People were everywhere, stepping on him, touching him – he felt someone's breath against his neck, someone spilled their beer on his shirt, his head was dizzy, spinning—

Then suddenly someone grabbed him by the hand, fingers curling around his upper arm with determination, and dragged him through the crowd and into a more secluded corner by the counter. The fingers disappeared as soon as they stopped moving, and Alec placed his shaky hands on top of the counter, breathing heavily.

He counted to ten before looking over to his right.

A man was standing next to him, frowning in mild concern – the kind of concern you can hold for a stranger. His hair was spiked up, dyed – Alec assumed – black, with a hint of purple. He was wearing make-up, and Alec had a brief moment to realize that Izzy had been a complete liar when she'd said  _no one will see_  before the man had opened his mouth and was talking to him.

"Hey," he said – shouted – and smiled hesitantly at Alec. "Sorry for grabbing you like that, I—I thought you might want to get away from the crowd. You didn't look too well."

Alec swallowed nervously, nodding. "Yeah, uh, thanks. My sister—" But the rest of his sentence was swallowed up by the music, which was suddenly turned up by what felt like a hundred degrees.

Alec saw the man roll his eyes, before he gestured at Alec to follow him. The man led them outside through the backdoor and into an alleyway. As soon as the door fell shut behind them, the music subsided into a quiet thudding.

Alec sat down on the ground, leaning against the tile wall. His hands continued trembling. The man sat next to him, but keeping his distance.

"Let me reiterate," he begun, looking at Alec who turned his gaze away. "I'm Magnus. Magnus Bane. Sorry for the impromptu kidnapping."

Alec let out a shaky laugh, closing his eyes and letting his head tip backwards. "No, thank you for taking me away from that, I— thanks." He paused, and opened his eyes. "I'm Alec. My sister, she… thought she'd take me out for the night to have fun."

"Didn't look like you were having fun," Magnus offered.

Alec chuckled. "No. She took her friend and disappeared on me. I'm not big on crowds, so. Well. You saw me."

Magnus hummed. "Yeah, I did. Your shirt's very eye catching."

Alec glanced down at his – Jace's – shirt, sighing. "It was the only decent one," he admitted. "It's my brother's. Apparently, it wasn't suitable to go out in a sweater."

Magnus' laughter was deep and bubbly, and Alec found himself smiling. His head felt light, still, but the night air was helping.

"What kind of a sweater?" Magnus asked, still looking at Alec. Alec turned to look back.

"Green," he said. "Wool, I think."

The light fixed to the wall on top of them flickered ominously. Magnus glanced at it, before his eyes found Alec again.

"This place is a dump," he said. He straightened his right leg across the dirty concrete, his shoe shining.

Alec looked around them. There were bins, yet most of the trash was on the ground – burnt cigarettes, paper wrappers, God knows what else. He blinked, humming. "Well, you're not wrong."

"I didn't mean this alleyway, although the sentiment applies here as well," Magnus corrected. "But, no, I meant the club, itself."

"Oh." Alec paused. "Why not go somewhere else, then?"

"Not like there are many choices around here," Magnus replied, craning his neck to look up at the sky. Alec eyed his jaw, before tearing his gaze away.

"It's New York," he said. "Of course there are choices."

Magnus was quiet for a while, eyes trained on the stars. Alec sneaked glances at him. His lids were purple, and shining, sort of like twinkling stars. His lashes were dark, his nose strong, his lips beauti—

Alec shook his head.

"When you're like me," Magnus eventually said, "there aren't many choices."

Alec hesitated for a brief second, words hovering inside his head. "Like you?" He asked, carefully,  _hopefully_.

"Well," Magnus started, his voice light – on purpose, Alec suspected. "I'm Indonesian. I dress flamboyantly. I'm bisexual. So, no, there aren't many choices for a person like me in this city, if I want to be even marginally safe."

Alec swallowed. "Oh. Right."

His heart felt like it was plummeting, trying to win a race against something invisible. His palms suddenly felt sweaty. Alec licked his lips, coughed, swallowed, coughed again. His mind was screaming at him to say something,  _anything_ , but no words came out.

"Right," Magnus echoed. He kicked something with his shoe, scraping the paint on it. "So, how—"

"I'm gay," Alec interrupted, loudly, before clamping down again. "I mean, I'm. Yeah. Sorry."

Magnus shot him an amused look, a smile playing at his lips. "That's alright," he mused. "We all have our moments."

Alec looked at him, trying to smile but ending up with a frown. "It's just, I've never done this," he explained. "I don't—the only person who knows has sort of always known, so I've never really…" He paused, his eyes flickering between Magnus' lips and nose and the light above them.

"Come out?" Magnus prompted.

"Yeah," Alec replied, his voice weak. "I don't—and we've only just met, but—I don't know."

Magnus smiled, gently. "Practice makes perfect," he said. "So, no one in your family knows?"

Alec shook his head. "They, uh, can't know. At least, not my parents. It would—it wouldn't end well, for anyone."

"I see," Magnus said. "I'm sorry. I know what it's like to… feel like an outside in your own family."

Alec didn't ask, didn't feel like intruding. He looked at the ground, at the cracked pavement, and sighed. Why had he agreed to this? He should've known better. His stomach felt like it was curling in on itself. He could feel Magnus' gaze burn against his face — and found he didn't mind all too much.

"When did life become so difficult?" He asked, not really looking for an answer, but he got one regardless.

"It never ceased being that," Magnus said, his voice quiet. "It's only that you one day wake up and see life for what it is, instead of what you want it to be."

Alec hummed. "I suppose," he agreed. "I wish—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the backdoor slammed open and against the wall with excessive force. Izzy stumbled out, swaying on her feet, and pointed an accusing finger at Alec as soon as she spotted him.

"You disappeared," she said, loudly, and Alec instinctively stood up, taking support from the wall.

"Ditto," he replied, taking a step closer. Her arm sneaked over his shoulders as she slouched against him, giggling.

"Who's that?" She asked, pointing at Magnus who gave a small wave.

"A friend," Alec muttered, trying to keep Izzy steady on her feet. "C'mon, let's go home."

The last thing Alec saw was Magnus standing up and dusting his pants. He shot Alec a warm smile.

Then the door fell shut between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Alec's outfit at the club, as drawn by my dumb ass](http://alexcnderbane.tumblr.com/post/162756058334/i-uh-started-an-80s-malec-au-heres-alec)


	2. i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is..... actually super fun to write, not gonna lie. also about that slow burn tag? yea lmao @ that
> 
> song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **R.E.M** \- Losing My Religion  
>  **Laura Branigan** \- Self Control  
>  **a-ha** \- Take on Me  
>  **Whitney Houston** \- I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)  
>  **Bryan Adams** \- Run To You  
>  **Cutting Crew** \- (I Just) Died in Your Arms  
>  **Chris de Burgh** \- The Lady in Red  
>  **Thompson Twins** \- Hold Me Now

The thought of Magnus Bane refused to leave Alec's mind for the rest of the week. It was like a permanent record, stuck in his mind – playing over and over on a loop, starting over as soon as it ended, and each time, Alec found something new in it. The curl of his hair, the memory of the sound of his laughter, the flickering light above them.

 _Something new_ was precisely what Magnus was.  _Something new_  was precisely what Alec needed.

He rolled over in the bed with a sigh, facing the wall. A blanket draped over his shoulders, too short to reach past his ankles. It was early morning – the last time he'd looked at the clock it had been a little past three. The house was quiet, but not quiet in the way it was when he was home alone. This was the kind of quiet that seeped into your bones, soft and humming – he could feel everyone else asleep in their own rooms, drifting off in peace.

His wallpaper was an ugly pale yellow, with white decorations. It had been that for as long as he could remember, ever since they'd moved into this house when he'd been ten. A remnant from the past tenants that no one had bothered to change or fix, which wasn't that much of a surprise. Aside from the kitchen, which had gone through renovations last year, all the rooms had remained mostly intact for eleven years.

Jace's had been the dream room of any eight-year-old boy – painted blue, with a car-decorated tapestry and a big bed and a window ideal for climbing out of in the dead of the night. Not that he ever had – it had seemed that after being picked up by a new family, the last thing Jace had wanted to do was to disappear.

The room was still very much the same this day – only the car tapestry had been rid of and replaced with magazine cut-outs of women in revealing outfits and various band posters, ranging from  _Europe_ to  _Chicago_ , covering every inch of the wall like a stichwork of a regular, 19-year-old American boy.

Alec avoided going to Jace's room, if it was possible. It wasn't that he didn't love Jace, or that Jace made him uncomfortable – he didn't. But the room did. It was like an ugly reminded to Alec –  _this is what you were supposed to be like_. But he wasn't. He'd never been. He never would be. And while he'd made peace with it, a small part of him was still revolting, and that part seemed to very much take over each time he visited Jace's room.

Where Jace's room had been the picture book of masculinity, Isabelle's had been the complete opposite. Her room had had pink walls when they'd moved in, and they had remained that way for quite a while, until, when Izzy had turned fifteen, she'd had enough – when their parents had been away for the weekend, she'd painted over the pink with black, with the help of Alec. Maryse had thrown a fit when she'd seen it, but it had remained at that – and her walls were still the same colour.

Her kitten plushies had slowly disappeared over the years, the fairy tale books replaced with  _The Scientific Image_ and  _A Defence of Common Sense_ , the pink fluffy carpets had been sold away to the neighbours – by the time Izzy had turned sixteen, her room had turned completely upside down.

Similarly to Jace, her walls were covered with posters –  _Pet Shop Boys, Culture Club_ ,  _Blondie_. She had a massive mirror, and a closet filled to the brim with various clothes and accessories – she'd told Alec her sense of fashion was "a delicate mix of punk, Boy George and Madonna". She was far from the pink, soft, feminine little girl she'd been – but no one seemed to mind.

It wasn't that Alec was bitter. She was glad their parents hadn't kicked up a fuss about what Izzy chose to wear, or listen to, or who she hung out with – safe for Robert's occasional, snide comments about "his wayward daughter and her low-class friends".

But it did sometimes get to him, in the early hours of the morning. He would've given a lot to be able to be himself and be accepted without questions. But it wasn't possible. And he knew it wasn't Izzy's fault, or Jace's, but it seemed, sometimes, easier to blame other people than to have no one to blame at all.

Alec heard someone walk past his door – the fifth stair creaked, as it always did, and the footsteps disappeared downstairs. Alec frowned, and sat up, his feet brushing his carpet. He tiptoed his way to his door and pushed it slightly open, leaning against the wall next to it.

Soon, the footsteps returned upstairs. Jace stopped as soon as he saw that Alec's door was open, a glass of water in his hands. He raised his brows.

"Why are you up?" Jace whispered, the sound too loud in the otherwise quiet house.

"Why are  _you_?" Alec whispered back, still frowning.

Jace glanced at his glass of water, and then back at Alec. "I mean," he started, "isn't it kind of obvious?"

Alec blinked once, twice. "I guess," he replied. "You scared me. I thought maybe someone broke in."

Jace tilted his head, looking amused. "And they did that by hovering outside the upstairs window with their invisible spaceship, and then climbed through the window using their silencing spell? You read too much, Alec."

"You read too little," Alec mumbled. "Night."

He slipped back into his room, closing the door once more. He heard Jace stand by his door for some seconds, before his steps moved further down the hall and back towards his own room.

Alec slid down to the floor, his back against the door. His bed seemed too far away, and besides, he didn't feel like sleeping. The clock on his wall proclaimed it was ten past four in the morning. He could see the sun starting to rise outside, the early morning hues bright against the sea of buildings rising against the horizon.

He lifted his knees up, resting his chin between them, his arms curled around his legs. The thought of Magnus slipped into his mind, unassuming and faint.

_It's only that you one day wake up and see life for what it is, instead of what you want it to be._

Alec sighed. He wasn't so sure he'd ever seen life for what he'd wanted it to be. It had always been tainted with what his  _parents_ had wanted it to be  _for_ him, and when he'd been old enough to realize that his parents' views and values greatly differed from his own, he'd already been at the point where he saw life for what it truly was – a terrible maze, with traps behind every corner, and peace at the centre of it, unreachable.

The floor creaked underneath him, as if to urge him to stand up and go to sleep. Alec's eyes felt like they were being held open by force, dry and hazy. He blinked, shaking his head, and stood up. His bed groaned when he fell on top of it, curling up.

Exhaustion caught up soon, and he fell asleep, his blanket lying forgotten on the floor.

When Alec woke up, it was ten o'clock, and he had a pounding headache. He walked downstairs, groaning at each loud sound the stairs made. Jace was in the kitchen when he walked in, and he greeted Alec with a warm smile. He was holding a spatula in his left hand, and Alec frowned from underneath the strands of hair falling across his face.

"Breakfast?" He croaked, and Jace sniggered.

"I was making some for myself, yes. Sit down, I'll make you some eggs."

Alec flopped down by the dining table, burying his face in his arms. His head continued to throb – he could swear the pain was spreading out further and further. He heard Jace hum under his breath, and something sizzling in the pan, and then the familiar  _thunk_ of something popping out of a toaster.

In a few minutes, Jace set a plate down near Alec's head. Alec heard a chair being dragged out, and he lifted his head up just in time to see Jace sit down opposite to him. There were bread crumbs on his shirt. Alec glanced at his plate – there were two slices of toast, with one, slightly burned egg on the side. He smiled, moving the plate closer.

"Thanks," he said to Jace in between bites, glancing at his brother.

Jace shrugged, eating his own toast – even more crumbs fell on his shirt. "No problem," he said. "I was making some anyway." He paused, eyeing Alec with worry. "Are you alright?"

It was Alec's turn to shrug. "Yeah. Woke up with a headache, is all. I'm thinking I'll stay in bed all day, praying it'll go away."

"Or you could just have some pain killers," Jace suggested. "Which might, you know, actually help."

Alec shook his head. "They never work. And besides, who knows what they put in those pills."

"Izzy probably does. She knows pretty much all there is to know about medical stuff, right? At least, it seems she does."

Jace was right. Izzy had given them all lectures on the effects of certain medications, and the effects of  _not_ having certain medications, and how the pharmaceutical companies should be trusted, except if they were of a certain kind – Alec couldn't remember which companies she'd warned them off about, and he felt a bit bad.

"Yeah, she's smart like that." He shot Jace a look. "It's because she goes to school, unlike some people."

Jace, at the very least, had the decency to look guilty. "It's just one day," he mumbled into his food. "'Sides, it's Friday.  _Everyone_ skips on Friday."

"Izzy doesn't. Clearly."

"Yeah, well, she's Izzy," Jace said. "And Izzy doesn't have a date with the hottest girl in town in—" He glanced at the clock. "In, shit, in an hour?"

Alec raised a single brow, hoping he was radiating disappointment. "The hottest girl in town?"

Jace was already standing up, taking both of their empty plates and, presumably, dumping them in the sink. His voice carried over from the kitchen, moving further away.

"Yeah, it's this girl, Helen," he yelled. "We met last month."

Alec heard his footsteps disappear off into upstairs, and he stood up and followed Jace into his room.

"Helen? Blackthorn?" He asked once he reached Jace's room, leaning against the doorway as Jace went through his closet.

"Yeah, that's her," he replied. He picked up a navy-blue sweater, and held it against his chest. "Does this work?"

"I—yeah, sure, it works," Alec said, sounding annoyed even to his own ears. "So, how serious are you with—with Helen?"

Jace pulled the sweater on and twirled in front of his mirror, before apparently deciding it fit well enough. "I don't know," he said, glancing at Alec with a frown. "Serious enough? We've been on a few dates. She's a lot of fun. Why do you care?" His frown deepened, and he squinted his eyes. "Do  _you_ have a thing for her?"

Alec nearly choked on his spit, and resisted the urge to have a laughing fit. He shook his head, coughing. "No," he managed to say, "I really don't. She's just a—a friend of Aline's. You know, Aline Penhallow?"

Jace's frown melted away. "Right, figures. I just thought, because you've never really been into anyone before, maybe… But, I believe you. And I think Helen's mentioned Aline a couple of times, now that I think about it."

Alec bit his lip. "What has she said?"

"I don't know, just, usual stuff?" Jace looked at him in a strange way. "Really, what's your deal? Do you have a thing for  _Aline_?"

"No," Alec's voice sounded terrified, perhaps too much so, and he cleared his throat. "No, I don't—I don't have a  _thing_ for anyone, I just… don't want you to get hurt. Or Helen."

His head hurt so much, like it was about to split, and Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was Helen going out with Jace? Obviously, it made sense if she was covering up—but Jace didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of that. Jace was, at the bottom of it all, a good person. Helen shouldn't have used him like that – and he supposed the alternative was that Helen was seeing both Jace  _and_ Aline, without telling either, which Alec didn't think to be possible – Helen wasn't like that.

"Why would I get hurt?" Jace asked, frowning.

Alec hesitated. It wasn't his place to tell. But this was  _Jace_.

"No reason," he said in the end, waving his hand dismissively. "Just… Helen might not be the, um, the right one for you."

Jace remained silent for some time, looking at Alec as if he was searching for something. Then he averted his eyes to the floor, and scratched his chin.

"Do you—do you  _know_?" He asked, finally, still not looking at Alec, his voice quieter than normal.

Alec felt his blood run cold. The ensuing silence felt heavy, weighing down on his shoulders. Alec swallowed nervously – it felt as if they were both dancing around a topic, not wanting to say it out loud.

"Know… know what?" Alec asked weakly.

Jace looked up, meeting his eyes. "About Helen." He paused, sighing. "And… and Aline."

Alec stepped inside, closing the door behind him despite the fact that they were alone in the house. He sat on the floor near Jace, crossing his legs. Jace looked nervous, but not in the way Alec had expected – not like he was hearing about this for the first time.

"Depends," Alec started slowly. "What about them?"

"Oh, for God's sake," Jace sighed, impatient, "you  _know_ what I'm talking about, don't you? That they're together?"

Alec felt some tension slipping from his shoulders. Jace knew. Jace  _knew_. "Of course, I know," Alec said. "Aline's my best friend. How could I not—" He took a deep breath. "How do  _you_ know?"

Jace gave a half-shrug, picking at a thread in his jeans. "I met Helen last month, and we were hanging out, having a good time, just… being friends, I guess? And, uh, I asked her out—you know, I haven't been on a date in a while, and so… well, yeah, anyway, she told me that she's sorry, but she's taken. And I figured, small neighbourhood, it's going to be someone I know, right? So, I asked her who she was seeing, that maybe she could set me up for a double date or something. And she said that she didn't think that was possible. So, I asked her why, obviously. And she said that she and the girl she's dating can't really be seen out together like that. And… well. The rest is history."

Jace fell silent. Alec wondered why Aline hadn't told him. Then he shook his head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh.

"Wow," he said. "I had—I had no idea you knew. I had no idea you'd be… fine with it, either. I didn't—I mean, not that I think that you're a bad person, but…" He let the sentence drift off, not really wanting to finish it; not really knowing  _how_ to finish it.

Jace's lips curled into a small smile. "I don't live in the last century, Alec. 'Course I'm fine with it."

Alec blinked. Something inside of him untwisted, uncurled – he felt his shoulders sag in relief. Jace was  _fine with it_. He could tell Jace, and he'd understand – he wouldn't look at Alec in disgust, wouldn't rat him out to anyone. He wouldn't treat Alec any different than he normally did.

Then he remembered the people Jace hung out with – bullies, and petty criminals; the sort of people who pointed at men on the streets and yelled profanities about AIDS and poofs and perversion. And suddenly Alec felt a bile in his throat again, and panic in his stomach, and realized he couldn't tell Jace. It was different when it was someone you didn't know – but your own brother? Who knew how Jace would take it. He'd always made fun of Alec for not dating, had always found it odd but had never pieced it together. And Alec couldn't— _wouldn't_ lose him over something like this.

"Right," he mumbled. "Of course. That's—that's good. I'm glad that you think like that."

Jace hummed. "Yeah, sure. It's sort of nice, fake dating Helen. It's like having a girlfriend, but you don't have to kiss or hold hands or whatever."

Alec raised a brow. "So, it's like having a friend?"

Jace burst into laughter, throwing his head back. "Shit," he breathed out. "I guess you're right." He chuckled, then grew serious once more. "How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

"About them. Obviously. And Aline, I suppose."

Alec opened his mouth, only to close it. He couldn't very well tell his entire friendship with Aline was built on meeting at a club for queer kids, some years ago.

"I've known about Aline for a while," he settled on saying. It was the truth, anyway – just not all of it. "And about them since they made it official to each other."

"Ah," Jace said. "Makes sense." He glanced at the clock, and swore under his breath. "Listen, I gotta run – but it was great talking to you about this, really. I'll catch you later."

And then Jace was gone. Alec heard the front door slam shut behind him.

He wandered back to his room, sitting on the edge of his bed. Jace knew about Aline and Helen – and he was willingly helping them cover it all up. A panicked giggle escaped his lips. He felt disappointed that Aline hadn't told him – but he supposed she only wanted to prevent the news from spreading. Still – he was her best friend. He would've told her, had he been in her situation.

That train of thought led Alec back to Magnus. He fell on his back, huffing in frustration. Magnus Bane. A bane in his existence, for sure. He couldn't stop wondering, couldn't stop wanting to know more about Magnus.

He hadn't even asked for a home number. He hadn't even asked if Magnus was from New York – what if he'd only been visiting? He supposed it didn't matter, all that much – Magnus had probably forgotten all about him by the next morning.

Alec's face turned into a frown. His headache was subsiding, slowly.

He couldn't leave it at this. This was his one chance – his one chance to break away from the muddle of his regular life. He wasn't going to let this one slide away. He'd go back, tonight – and if nothing happened, if Magnus didn't show up, or worse,  _did_  and wanted nothing to do with Alec – he'd take it as a sign. He'd take it as a sign to keep his head down and stop trying.

The hours until the evening dragged on. Maryse came home around five in the afternoon, followed closely by Isabelle and Jace. They all had dinner together sometime past six, no one mentioning out loud the glaring space left free at the table by Robert's absence. Alec supposed he was working late, again – he always was these days, it seemed.

The dinner felt tense. Or maybe it was only Alec imagining it. He was sat next to Jace, with Izzy and their mother on the other side of the table. Once, Maryse tried to start a conversation, but it sizzled out soon enough.

Alec was nearly finished when Izzy fixed her eyes on him. "It's Friday," she said, her voice a mask of casualness.

"I know," Alec replied, stabbing a piece of tomato with his fork. "I am aware of the passage of time, generally."

To his right, Jace snorted into his glass of water. Maryse shot them both a disappointed look across the table.

Izzy persisted. "So, you got any Friday night plans? Or are you going to continue being a hermit?"

"Isabelle!" Maryse gasped, setting her cutlery down. "There is absolute no need to be rude—"

"It's fine, mom," Alec cut in. "She's not wrong, is she?"

No one replied to him. Maryse looked at Alec, half worried and half sad, and Alec averted his eyes, staring at his plate rather than her.

"But yeah, I do have plans," he said, feigning lightness. "I'm, uh, I'm going out."

He heard Isabelle choke on her salad. "You  _are_?" She managed to get out, hoarsely.

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the plate. There was a persistent piece of chicken that wouldn't stay on his fork – he gave up on it. "Yeah. Figured I might as well do something, since I finished all the new books I bought last week."

"Nerd," Jace muttered under his breath.

Alec glanced up. Izzy was looking at him, brows raised. Maryse looked delighted. He stood up.

"Thanks for the dinner," he said before walking out, doing his best not to run up the stairs.

The clock neared nine by the time he was ready to leave.

Alec couldn't be bothered with borrowing Jace's clothes this time – he was going to be himself, completely. So, he left his black  _New Order_ t-shirt on, along with his worn-out jeans and leather jacket (which had cost him more than should've been legal). He considered the make-up, but decided against it last minute. He was going to be walking down the streets alone, at night, and while Alec was more than capable of handling himself he'd rather have avoided the broken ribs and black eyes, if possible.

Maryse wished him a good night when he left. Alec slammed the door on his way out.

By the time be reached the  _Indigo Devil_ it was sometime past ten – he'd stopped twice on the way over, to rethink his decision. Both times he'd nearly turned around and walked back home, his siblings' teasing be damned. But something kept pulling him forward, and eventually, he found himself by the bar counter, ordering a beer, his voice tense in a way it normally wasn't.

Magnus was nowhere in sight. Alec kept scanning the crowd, sipping his drink, but to no avail. There were no familiar faces in sight. Nothing, except for loud drunks and blasting music, and an impending headache Alec could feel returning.

He was halfway through his fourth drink when he realized that this had been a stupid plan. Of course, Magnus wouldn't show up. Simply because he'd been here once didn't mean nothing at all. Simply because he'd talked to Alec one evening meant nothing at all. Alec had been an idiot to get his hopes up.

He felt his throat tighten, his chest aching. The cocktail in his hand tasted like ash. His eyes felt blurry, and his gaze was dragging. He leaned against the counter with his elbows, staring at the surface of it with numb eyes.  _What a fool_ , he thought, swallowing down the lump in his throat.  _You'll always be alone_.

Someone nudged him in the ribs, and Alec blinked rapidly, turning his head to look. A girl was standing next to him, smiling empathetically. She was holding a drink, but looked sober enough – soberer than Alec was, at any rate.

"Hey," she said, and it was only then Alec realized that the loud disco music had been replaced by softer ballads, making it possible to hear anything. The crowd had diminished – there was a handful of people swaying on the dance floor, and a few loitering by the counter.

"Yeah," he replied, turning his head away slightly and sipping his drink. It tasted like sour apples – he grimaced. "Hi."

"You looked kinda miserable," she drawled, her accent sounding foreign to his ears – southern, maybe. "Thought I'd keep ya some company, if you don' mind."

Alec shook his head, feeling dizzy. "'S fine," he mumbled. "I was—I was sort of hoping I'd run into someone tonight, but it didn't—it didn't happen."

She let out a sympathetic sigh. "That's too bad. A lotta times we wish that the universe would help us out, but it rarely does, does it?"

He glanced at her. She was wearing a yellow shirt, with a jean jacket, her blonde hair fluffier than any of Izzy's old carpets. Her lips were painted an inconspicuous light red, not too bright but still noticeable. He looked away, catching the bartender's eyes. He raised his hand for another drink.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess I was wishing for too much."

She cooed. "No, don't ya say that, now. You'll find her sometime, I  _promise_. And if ya don't, plenty o' fish out there. All you gotta do is jump."

Alec let out a bitter scoff, taking the drink the bartender gave him and downing half of it in one go. "Don't matter how many fish are out there," he started, "there's not a single one for me."

She shifted closer. "You never know," she said in a hushed tone. "I'm Melissa. Visitin' my cousin from Texas."

The lights inside the club dimmed, and Alec looked at the couples slow dancing on the floor, hands on waists and foreheads pressed against each other. "Alec," he said. "But I don't—"

Before he could finish his sentence, someone materialized next to him, on his left, and Alec turned to look – only to come face to face with a smiling Magnus. His breath caught in his throat, his sentence cut off.

"Alec," Magnus said as a form of greeting. He leaned his elbows against the counter in a seemingly effortless way. Alec noted that his sleeved had been rolled up. "Never caught your last name."

"Lightwood," Alec said, his eyes never leaving Magnus face. He sipped his drink. "My full name's Alexander," he added as an afterthought.

Magnus looked at him curiously for a few seconds, before averting his attention to order a drink.

Alec turned to his right. Melissa gave him a pitying look. "Looks like ya found your fish," she said, her tone an odd mix of sadness and disappointment. She gave him a fleeting smile with no real intent behind it, before she walked away. Alec blinked after her for a few seconds, before turning back to Magnus.

He was holding a drink, one brow raised. "So, Alexander Lightwood," he started, tilting his head. "What a coincidence."

Alec nodded. He realized he was swaying slightly on his feet and gripped the counter in order to remain steady. "Didn't think you'd come back," he confessed. "Thought I wouldn't see you again."

Magnus eyed him, sipping his drink. "Just how long have you been here?"

Alec spread his arms in a gesture he hoped conveyed his lack of knowledge. "A couple of hours?" He guessed. "Depends what time it is."

"Around two in the morning," Magnus told him after glancing at his wrist watch. "Not my usual time for clubbing, I'll admit, but I—" He paused, considerate. "I felt like I needed some company," he finished.

"I know that feeling," Alec said. His stomach was doing flips, and he couldn't tell whether it was because of Magnus or because of the alcohol. "It's like—sometimes being alone gets too much. And usually it's fine, most of the time, but then there are these moments when… when it gets to you. That sort of—sort of exhausting loneliness. And you just need people around you, even if they're complete strangers."

Magnus nodded along as he spoke, his smile dimming by the second, his expression sobering up. "Exactly," he said after Alec had finished. "That's—very eloquent for a drunk."

Alec couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm not that drunk," he giggled. "Seriously, I'm—I'm not."

He got a doubtful look in return. "Yeah, and I'm straight," Magnus drawled.

"That'd be a travesty," Alec said, lifting his right hand over his heart as he gasped in mocked shock. "An actual—an actual travesty."

Magnus snorted, the left corner of his mouth twitching. "A travesty," he echoed. "Likewise."

Alec didn't know what to say. His brain was frozen between one sentence and another, both turning into a muddle inside his head, and he was left blinking up at Magnus, confused and drunk and infatuated in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever been before.

Magnus took one look at him, and then reached for something in his pocket. It was a pen – he took Alec's hand, scribbling something on the inside of his wrist before withdrawing.

"That's my home number," he said. Alec lifted his wrist up to inspect it – there was a string of neatly written numbers, lining up diagonally away from his palm and towards his inner elbow.

"Thanks," Alec mumbled. He let his arm drop. "I'll—I'll call you. Next time I'm going out, I'll call you. And then I won't have to wait around for four hours." Then he mentally cursed himself – he hadn't meant to say that.

Magnus grinned into his drink. "Four hours, huh," he repeated. "Yes, let's safe us both the trouble next time."

A familiar song begun playing. Alec recognized the opening beats, and instinctively grabbed Magnus by the arm, surging forward, nearly toppling over to the floor.

"Oh my god," he breathed out. "This is—I love this song."

Magnus quickly set his drink on the counter, angling himself so that he was facing Alec in an attempt to keep them both upright. In the process, Alec's hands ended up on his shoulders, with Magnus' hands on his waist. He grinned at Magnus, lopsidedly.

They swayed, somewhat awkwardly, in the limited space available. Alec let out a laugh, leaning closer. He smelled Magnus' cologne, noticed his stubble. His shirt felt soft.

"Hold me now," he sang along under his breath, looking at Magnus.

"Hold my heart," Magnus continued, smiling.

Alec's breath hitched – the rest of the lyrics vanished from his head, and he settled on humming, feeling safe and happy and warm as the green and red lights continued to hold them in a quiet spotlight, away from the rest of the crowd.


	3. forever the same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ me: take ur time writing this  
> also me @ me: write asap or you'll lose interest  
> me: ???
> 
> song recs for the chapter:
>
>> **Pet Shop Boys** \- Always On My Mind  
>  **Whitney Houston** \- How Will I Know  
>  **Madonna** \- Papa Don't Preach  
>  **Blondie** \- Call Me  
>  **Soft Cell** \- Tainted Love  
>  **Soft Cell** \- Forever the Same  
>  **David Bowie** \- Let's Dance

Alec woke up, his entire body aching. He blinked blearily, his lashes feeling like they were stuck to each other with glue. The room around him swam, and he pressed his eyes shut, rolling over to his back with a groan.

He felt like throwing up. Alec lifted his knees up and curled his arms around him stomach, slowly breathing in through his nose. His head felt like it was about to fall apart by its seams, throbbing in pain. The floor felt cold underneath him, and he realized his shirt was gone.

With great difficulty, Alec risked moving a little. He heaved himself up, leaning his weight on his arms, his palms facing the floor.

His shirt was bundled up next to him, between him and his bed. It seemed like it had been turned inside out – probably when he'd taken it off. He hoped. He was still wearing his jeans, but the other leg was rolled up to his knee. His shoes were lying in front of the door, surprisingly neatly placed. He wasn't wearing socks – Alec frowned, glancing around the room with squinted eyes. He didn't see the socks anywhere, but there was an unfamiliar jacket that had been carefully set on his bed. It was deep purple, velvet, with some kind of white chiffon decorations on the sleeves and the hem. The buttons were gold.

It hit Alec, then, like a ton of bricks.

It was Magnus' jacket.

He recalled, faintly, that Magnus had placed it on his shoulders with a warm, but insisting smile.  _You're going to be cold_. Alec's frown deepened, and he shook his head slightly. What had happened to his leather jacket? It was nowhere in sight, and he hadn't been wearing it when he'd left the club, meaning—

Meaning that it was still there.

Alec groaned, burying his head between his knees. He should've stopped with the drinks earlier – should've never started drinking at all. His headache wasn't showing any signs of subsiding, and his legs were aching as if he'd ran a marathon the previous day.

He remained sitting on the floor for a long while, not willing to move in case he threw up. His stomach was churning—Alec sighed, breathing in and out as steadily as he could. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place – if he moved, he could go and get pain killers and something to drink. But at the same time, moving seemed like an impossible task.

Alec was woken from his misery when he heard his door creak open. He lifted his head up gently, glancing at the door with bleary eyes.

Izzy was standing by the doorway, holding a glass of water and a bottle of what Alec hoped to God was pain killers. She stepped inside, giving Alec a look of equal disappointment and worry. She sat down opposite to him, handing the glass of water over.

It was only after he'd drunk half of it that Alec realized how parched his throat had been. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sniffling.

"Thank you," he muttered, his voice sounding like he'd eaten gravel.

Izzy snorted, and gave him two tablets. "Eat these," she instructed. "It'll help. Trust me, I know."

Alec didn't bother asking what they were – he swallowed them with the rest of the water, and then closed his eyes, pressing his forehead once more against his knees. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice muffled.

"How many times have you taken care of me after a night out? It's the least I can do," she replied airily.

She wasn't wrong, precisely – Alec was more than used to picking her up and walking her home, bringing her water and more blankets and lying to Maryse that she'd caught the flu,  _again_. But he wasn't used to being on this side of the coin. He wasn't the one who got drunk and stumbled home in the early hours of morning—and frankly, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know when he'd gotten back.

He recalled, faintly, that he'd said goodbye to Magnus outside of the  _Indigo Devil_ , and they'd parted ways with Magnus going to the opposite direction from him. Alec wondered where, exactly, he lived. It couldn't have been too far off, if he'd been walking.

His thoughts where broken off by a sudden gasp from Izzy.

"What?" He mumbled, tired. It was too early, his head hurt too much,  _his jacket was gone…_

"Is that a—is that a phone number, on your arm?" Izzy asked, her tone disbelieving.

Alec's head flew up – an action which he immediately regretted as pain shot through his head and spots filled his vision. "Ow, jesus," he mumbled, pressing his hand against his forehead. "Ah,  _fuck_."

"Careful, mom might hear," Izzy said, and Alec couldn't tell whether she was teasing him or not.

He let his arm drop down, and looked at Izzy, blinking owlishly. "How do you do this every weekend?" He asked, shaking his head.

Izzy shrugged her shoulders slightly. "You get used to it." She eyed him up and down, one brow raised. "You learn your limits on how much to drink to not end up like that."

Alec would've rolled his eyes, if he hadn't suspected that it would make him feel even worse. "Right, I get it. I don't know what I'm doing." He paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "God, I should've stopped way earlier."

"You came home around four," Izzy told him, amused. "I'm pretty sure the entire house heard you, too. So, I wouldn't expect for mom to greet you especially warmly, next time she sees you."

Alec groaned. "I'm never going out again," he mumbled. Then his eyes fell on the numbers scribbled on his inner wrist. He lifted his arm, inspecting the writing with squinted eyes.

_Magnus – BAne 49284 (2249284)_

"Huh," he let out, his frown dissipating.

Izzy shuffled until she was sitting next to him. She rested her chin on his shoulder, trying to read the text on his arm. Then she laughed, softly.

"Damn," she muttered. "You're actually making friends."

Alec remembered Magnus' hands on his waist, remembered the feeling of them dancing, pressed against each other, the music playing softly in the background. His skin tingled.

"Yeah," he replied hoarsely. "Friends."

As was expected, Maryse glared at him half-heartedly when he eventually came downstairs. She'd been worried, and then she'd gone to bed—only to wake up at an ungodly hour to him stomping up the stairs, and what had he been thinking, was he okay, she was worried— _this is so unlike you, Alexander_.

He'd brushed her worry off the best he could, giving half-assed assurances that he was only enjoying life, like Izzy and Jace did, had always done, and what was so wrong with that?

It had worked – she'd laid off, giving him a small smile and fixing him a pointed look from under her reading glasses.  _Just be careful_.

He'd promised to be.

Next Wednesday marked the date for his weekly get together with Aline. He'd been looking forward to it since last Friday, wanting to call her but not daring – you never knew if someone was listening from the other phone, or around the corner. And it wasn't that Alec was paranoid, but, well—he didn't want to end up on the streets because of a phone call.

He walked into their usual café a little before twelve, the bell that was attached to the door giving a loud, warning chime. No one glanced up as he strolled through the place, towards the back. He slid into their regular booth, taking comfort in the familiar environment and the soft leather seatings as he waited for Aline to arrive.

She came in five minutes late, out of breath. There was a lipstick smear on her jawline, and Alec grinned as she sat down with a huff.

"You've got something here," he said, gesturing to his own jawline.

Aline shot him a look, opening her mouth. Then she closed it, trying, and failing, to supress a smile. She took a hand mirror from her bag and wiped the lipstick off carefully, the red traces evident on the white napkin she then threw on the table.

"Aren't you observant as ever," she said to Alec, putting the mirror away. She was smiling, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Let me guess," Alec started, grabbing a menu and eyeing it despite knowing it by heart. "You were with Helen before this?"

Aline laughed, and the sound warmed Alec's heart. He was glad to see her finally enjoying herself, finally being happy – and especially with Helen. God knew she'd been pining after her for  _months_.

"Yeah, she came over and said she'd walk me here. What a gentleman, right?"

Alec snorted, looking up from the menu. "Quite," he agreed. "So, it's going good, then?"

The sigh that escaped Aline's lips might've been described as  _blissful_. "More than good," she confessed. "It's—it's like I'm living a dream, you know? She has her own apartment, and we've been hanging out over there a lot. It feels like a safe haven, compared to my house. No nagging parents, no intrusive relatives who  _decided to pop by_." She scoffed. "No one  _pops by_ three times a week."

She paused as the waitress came over and took their orders. Alec decided on a cup of tea – Aline went for coffee (black, no sugar). Neither ordered anything to eat.

"And your mom's not suspicious?" Alec asked after the waitress had left. "About you two?"

Aline shook her head, glancing outside the window at the buzzling street. Her make-up was similar to the way Magnus had worn his, last Friday. "No. I told her Helen has a boyfriend."

Alec clicked his tongue. "Jace," he filled in the blanks for her.

Aline gave him a bashful smile. "I didn't want to tell you in case something went wrong," she explained. "I mean, what if Jace had suddenly turned out to be against it? I didn't want for it to hurt you, as a result. And as long as Jace thought you had no clue, you seemed less suspicious."

"He still has no clue," Alec said. "About me, I mean. I hope."

The look Aline gave him made his chest tighten uncomfortably. "You could tell him," she suggested. "I think—I think he'd be alright with it. And Isabelle, as well. They both would. They're your siblings; they love you."

"Yeah, and Maryse and Robert are my parents," Alec replied bitterly. "That doesn't seem to stop them from preaching about how all homosexuals go to hell each night after our nice family dinner. Not that they know that their own son is one, but still. It doesn't exactly get you in the mood to come out. But, you know how it is."

Aline's mouth twisted into a frown. "Fair enough. But Izzy and Jace aren't like your parents. They're young, and they don't religiously listen to Maryse and Robert – at least, not anymore. Jace, maybe, once upon a time – but he's grown so much. And Izzy has always had a mind of her own, and a progressive one at that." She paused. "And I mean, just look at Mark. He knows about me and Helen, and he's fine with it."

Alec raised a pointed eyebrow. "Mark's bisexual," he retorted. "Obviously, he's fine with it."

"Not  _obviously_ ," she mumbled. "You'd be surprised at how many queer men think me and Helen are faking it to get attention, or think that their struggles are more valid and important than ours."

Alec said nothing for a while. Their drinks arrived. "I don't think it's fair to compare like that," he eventually started. "Someone might have it worse than you, and someone might have it better. It doesn't give an excuse to hate on anyone, does it?"

"No," Aline answered. "It doesn't." She sipped her coffee, grimacing at the hotness. "But, my point stands. You could tell them."

"I'll tell them when there's something to tell," Alec sighed, twirling his spoon around in a lazy circle as he watched a sugar cube slowly dissolve. He thought of Magnus, and the phone number still on his wrist, and Magnus' jacket, hanging in his closet. His eyes flickered between his tea and Aline, eventually settling on Aline.

He'd been dying to tell someone, hadn't he? So why was he suddenly so nervous?

"I, uh. I met someone," he managed to say, his stomach twisting itself into knots despite the fact that this was  _Aline_  he was telling this to. His nerves didn't seem to care the least bit.

Aline's brows flew up. She leaned across the table, grinning excitedly. " _What?_ " She asked. "Who? Where? What's his name?"

Alec shushed her, glancing around them. No one had even looked up. "Keep your voice down," he muttered into his cup. "And it's not—it's not anything, yet."

"Obviously it's  _something,_ if you're telling me about it," Aline countered. "Come on, spill it. Let's start with a name."

"Magnus," Alec grumbled. "His name's Magnus. We met a little over a week ago, at this club that Izzy dragged me to."

"Of course you meet someone the  _one time_ you go out," Aline laughed. "You're one lucky bastard, you know that?" She smiled, resting her chin against her palm. "So, Magnus, huh? What's he like? How'd you meet?"

"I just told you, at the club—"

"Yeah, but  _how_?"

His tea had cooled down enough to be drinkable. It tasted oddly like vanilla. "He, um. Dragged me away from the middle of crowd after I looked like I was about to pass out. We went outside and talked. It was, you know." He didn't know how to elaborate, didn't know how to put into words the amount of joy and hope he'd felt – still felt, now, at the thought of seeing Magnus again. "But then I had to take Izzy home," he finished, sipping his tea.

Aline's eyes were twinkling. "Please tell me you got his number," she pleaded, drumming her fingers against the table.

"Not that time," Alec said. He smiled as Aline gasped.

"That time?" She asked.

"We met again last Friday," Alec said. "Or, well—I waited at the club for ages, hoping he'd show up. I was about to leave when he did." He smiled at the memory. "He gave me his number. We danced. Talked some. I was too drunk, I can't remember everything crystal clear, but…" He trailed off, staring into his cup. "I don't know. I'm just hoping it'll lead to—to something, you know?"

Aline reached out across the table, taking Alec's hand in hers. He looked up to see her smiling softly at him.

"I'm sure it'll work out," she said. "You're a good man, Alec. If anyone deserves this, it's you."

"Thanks," he whispered, smiling back at her. "God, what would I do without you?"

"You wouldn't survive," she replied.

They both knew she was only half kidding.

Alec withdrew his hand, combing it through his hair. He leaned back against his seat. "I think I'll call him tomorrow. Dad will be off at the work trip in Albany and mom's going to be out of town for the book club meeting."

"I still don't buy that she goes to fucking 'book club meetings'," Aline said, rolling her eyes. She pointed a finger at Alec. "I bet you ten dollars she's lying about it. She's doing some weird stuff that she doesn't want you all to know about, so she's covering it up with these supposed book clubs."

Alec couldn't help but laugh. "My mom? Lying? I don't think she's ever told a lie in her life," he said. "I mean, you've met her. Why would she do anything  _but_ go to book club meetings?"

Aline shrugged, sipping her coffee. "You never know people as well as you think," she reminded him.

Alec's smile froze for a second, before he shook his head. "Nah," he said, slowly. "Not mom. She's as clean cut as they come."

"Whatever you say," Aline sang. "But if it turns out she isn't, you owe me a Hamilton."

"I'm not paying you ten dollars for my mom's lies," he retaliated. "'Sides, I need to save money – I lost my jacket. I'll have to buy a new one."

She raised a brow. "Lost your jacket?"

He tried to shrug whilst looking nonchalant. "At the club. I don't—I think I left it somewhere there, I don't know. I borrowed Magnus' coat when I left."

"How quaint," she teased. "But, fine. Forget the bet. I'm still right, though."

Alec's only response was to roll his eyes.

When he got home that afternoon, Robert was waiting for him in his room. Alec stepped in, a frown settling between his brows as soon as he saw him. Robert was inspecting his bookshelf, dusting the back covers. He turned to look at Alec as he stepped in, and smiled grimly.

"Alexander," he greeted, and somehow his full name sounded vile when said by someone who wasn't Magnus.

"Hi, dad," he said slowly, taking a few steps further inside. "What are you—why are you here?"

Robert stepped away from the bookshelf and turned to face Alec. He looked serious – but when did he not? Alec's heart was stammering in his chest. He did his best not to glance towards his books. He should've hidden the incriminating ones, shouldn't have kept them there, on display – he'd thought hiding in plain sight was the smartest option, but clearly…

"We need to talk," Robert started.

"About what?"

"You." Robert paused. He was still wearing his suit from work, had, presumably, just come home. Alec didn't hear anyone else in the house, and hadn't seen anyone, either.

"What about—" Alec faltered. He cleared his throat. "What about me?"

Robert sat down by the desk, gesturing for Alec to take a seat as well. He sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers curling around the covers for some sort of vain support.

"You're twenty-one, Alexander," Robert started, "you need to start thinking about your future. I know; you're young, you have other things to be concerned with. Girls and going out and… and whatnot. But it's good to start planning these things ahead of time."

Alec blinked.

Blinked again.

 _Oh_.

He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension slipping from his body. This was about  _work_. This had nothing to do with him being gay. He should've known – work was what Robert only ever talked about. His career, his achievements, his promotions. And since Alec didn't yet have a job, obviously Robert was concerned for his future career. Obviously.

"Right," Alec said, sounding a bit strangled. "Right, yeah. The future. I'm—I've been thinking about it, yeah."

Robert gave him a pointed look. "That's not what your mother tells me," he said.

 _Well, I guess it's your fault that you're not here enough to know for yourself_ , Alec thought, but refrained from saying it out loud. "I've been thinking inside my head. That's where thinking tends to happen," he said instead, hoping, against all odds, that his voice sounded less icy than it felt.

Robert pursed his lips. "Well, of course. But we're your parents, Alexander—"

"Stop calling me that," Alec snapped, frowning.

Robert paused, and sighed. He looked tired. "We're your parents, Alec," he started over. "We worry about you. You used to never go out, and now—"

"And now I've been out exactly, what, two times?" Alec interrupted. He felt irritation gripping his insides in a chokehold. "Didn't know that was grounds for me being out of control."

"Obviously, that's not what I meant," Robert amended. "I only meant to say, this feels a little out of character, for you. So, I was just wondering if something happened?"

Alec bit his lip. He could tell him. Tell him all of it, and move out this very evening. He could stop this ridiculous cat-and-mouse game they kept on playing, despite Robert and Maryse not being aware of the existence of the rules – or that there even was a game at all.

But he had no money. No place to go. Nothing at all.

"Nothing happened," he said dully. "I was just trying out something new. Living a little. I promise, I'll think about applying for a job soon."

Robert seemed pleased. He leaned back on his chair and smiled, crossing his hands. "I could get you job down at the company," he offered. "Very nice, with minimal hours and a decent pay."

Alec shook his head. "I'd rather do this by myself," he said, leaving out the part where he was under no circumstances working for Robert, no matter the pay or the hours. "Be independent. See what's what."

"That's very brave of you," Robert said, seemingly satisfied in his answer. "But then, you've always been a little different."

Alec resisted the urge to scoff.  _You don't say_. "Yeah," he said. "It's the Lightwood in me."

Robert laughed, and got up. "Let me know if you ever change your mind," he told Alec, and then he left. Alec waited for the fifth step to creak before he stood up to close his door.

Alec wandered back and flopped down on his bed, blinking up at the roof.

A job. What the hell was he going to do? He'd gone to schools, had graduated with good results, he had  _some_ skills – but nothing spectacular, and certainly nothing that would've guaranteed him a steady income in any career. He was an idiot for refusing his dad's offer.

"At least you have morals," he whispered to himself. "Like that's going to help you at all."

The next morning, Robert left to drive to Albany, and Maryse left for the train station, citing her book club meeting and wishing them all a safe weekend. They all waved their goodbyes – Alec, Jace and Isabelle – and as soon as Maryse turned around the corner and Robert's car sped away, the front door was slammed shut and they let a collective sigh of relief.

"Thank  _God_  they won't be here to ride my ass about going out on Friday," Izzy said, sitting down on the living room couch.

"Language," Alec muttered instinctively, settling down on an armchair near Izzy with a book.

"Oh, as if you're one to talk," Izzy threw back, all in good nature.

Alec pulled a face, before turning to his book. "Don't you have school?" He asked after a while. He couldn't concentrate on the pages—he wanted to dial Magnus. But not with his siblings in the house.

Izzy gave a noncommittal hum. "I have to leave soon," she replied. Then she raised her voice. "Jace! We're leaving in ten!"

Jace's muffled response of  _gotcha_ carried over from upstairs, where he was, presumably, applying ungodly amounts of gel in his hair to keep it sleek.

Izzy shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I can understand wanting to look nice," she said, "but spending this much time on your  _hair_  when you're a guy? Ridiculous."

Alec nodded distractedly. "Yeah," he said, "ridiculous."

He kept his eyes on his book until he heard the front door slam shut behind Izzy and Jace. Then, in mere seconds, the book was discarder to the living room table and Alec was walking towards the downstairs phone, dialling the numbers he'd memorized in the small hours of the night as he'd rolled them over in his head.

The line rang three times before someone picked up.

"Hello?" A strange female voice asked, and Alec straightened his back, gripping the phone tightly.

"Hi? This is, uh, Alec. I'm looking for a Magnus Bane?" He said, nerves gathering in his stomach. "My last name's Lightwood," he added. "If that matters."

The line was silent for a few seconds. Then he heard a sound as if someone was rapidly snapping their fingers. "You're the one from the club," the voice said, sounding excited. "Oh my god, the club kid. This is perfect."

"… What?" Alec asked, frowning. "How do you—"

His sentence was cut off by the other voice yelling to someone on their end of the line, the voice somewhat muffled. "Mags! The Lightwood kid's calling!"

Alec's expression darkened. "Kid?" He asked.

The voice laughed. "Well," it said. "The Lightwood  _man_ doesn't have such a nice ring to it, I think. And, besides, I'm betting I'm at least a few years older than you – I can call you a kid, if I want to."

Alec huffed. "Just, can you get Magnus on the line?"

"Yeah, yeah," the voice sighed. "He's on his way—oh, he doesn't look too happy, that's a frown if I ever saw one – Magnus, it's the Light—"

The voice was cut off. For a few seconds, there was only static, and faint sounds of arguing. Then the line clicked, and Magnus' voice carried through it.

"Alexander," he said –  _purred_. "I've been waiting for you to call."

"Is that so?" Alec asked, smiling to himself. He twirled the phone cord between his fingers. "I'm sorry I couldn't call earlier. Never know who's listening."

Magnus laughed. "The government?"

"More like my family," Alec chuckled. "I doubt the government cares much for my phone conversations."

"It seems the government doesn't care much for anything at all," Magnus said – his voice had a bitter undertone, and Alec's smile dimmed. His stomach churned uncomfortably.

"I know," he said. His voice had gone quiet. "It's—it's bad. I don't understand how they can just stand by and…" He drifted off.

"And do nothing?" Magnus finished. "They don't care. It's not affecting them. Why should they be bothered, when the people they want gone are dying?"

Alec swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he replied. "It's sick. My dad, he—" Alec paused, glancing around him. "He's said some stuff that just makes your blood boil, you know?"

Magnus hummed understandingly. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Who cares what my dad thinks." Alec didn't want to add that over half the population in New York probably shared Robert's views.

"I know," Magnus repeated. "I'm still sorry." There was a short pause. "That was an unpleasant detour, I'll admit. Let's talk about something else, I don't—" He took a deep breath. "So, how have you been?"

Alec sniffled, clearing his throat. "I've been alright. Bored out of my mind – it's not like I got much to do, here. What about you?"

"Same old, same old. Work, mostly," Magnus replied pleasantly. "Nothing worth mentioning. Never knew New York could be so… boring."

"Tell me about it," Alec agreed. "So, uh, I was thinking…"

"I hear that's good for the mind," Magnus interjected, and Alec could hear his smile through the line.

"Ha, ha," he said sardonically, rolling his eyes. "I was  _thinking_  if we could meet up tomorrow? It's going to be Friday, so, you know. Seems to be kind of like our thing, now."

"Our thing," Magnus echoed. "I like that. I'm free from seven onward – say we meet up outside the  _Devil_ 'round nine?"

Alec grinned. "Nine sounds good," he said, nodding even though Magnus couldn't see him. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"That sounds awfully like a cue for hanging up," Magnus replied. "Let's not be those people."

Alec's grin widened, if possible. He sat down with his back against the wall, lifting the phone down next to him. "What sort of people?"

"Those people who never  _talk_ ," Magnus said. "How are you meant to get to know someone if you don't bother having conversations?"

"I'd say most people  _don't_ want to get to know each other, deep down," Alec replied, amused. "They'll settle for the shallow facts and looks and leave it at that."

"Is that why we have such high divorce rates in this country?" Magnus asked, rhetorically. "Well, Alexander, it seems you've cracked that mystery wide open."

"Maybe I should become a detective," he joked. "Or, even better, one of those conspiracy theory leaders."

Magnus laughed, and Alec couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. "I think you'd make an adorable detective."

They talked for the better half of an hour, until Alec begun complaining about phone bills and his aching back, and they hung up, with the promise to see each other the following day.

Alec fell asleep early, lulled to his dreams by the thought of the next evening. When he woke up, the house was suspiciously quiet – then he remembered that their parents were away, and his siblings were in school.

Alec skipped on breakfast, and had some toast for lunch. His stomach was like a bundle of raw nerves the entire day.

He'd never felt this way before—he'd never felt  _any_ way before. He was, at the same time, excited and terrified to the core. He was sure he'd say the wrong thing, at some point, that would drive Magnus away. Or they'd have nothing to say to each other after they run out of the most common topics. Or, or, or.

Alec was acutely aware of the fact that he had no clue what he was getting himself into. He didn't know the first thing about relationships, had never been in one before. Were there certain rules to this? He couldn't ask anyone – the only other queer man he knew was the same one he was panicking over.

He knew nothing – safe for the fact that he was, undeniably, interested in Magnus. And vice versa, he hoped.

Izzy asked him where he was going as he left the house sometime past eight – Alec gave a mumbled response of ' _out_ ' before closing the front door behind him. Magnus' jacket was resting on his arm, neatly folded, as Alec walked the familiar route towards the  _Indigo Devil._ It was cold, but not too much so – the usual autumn weather. Still, Alec shivered in his long-sleeved sweater.

It was already dark when he reached the club. Alec waited outside, leaning against the brick wall with neon lights glaring at him from above.

He noticed Magnus walking down the street ten minutes later, and raised his hand in a greeting. Magnus stopped in front of him, smiling.

He was wearing a black windbreaker, with pink stripes and various pins and patches attached to its sleeves and front. Underneath, Alec could see a light blue shirt with some kind of a slogan that was covered up by the jacket, and black jeans. His heart did a jump.

"Hey," he breathed out. He jerked his arm forward, the jacket still hanging off it. "Here's the coat you let me borrow last time."

Magnus eyed the coat, and then Alec. His eyes were twinkling – or maybe it was the lighting. "You should keep it," he offered. "It suited you well. And I have too many coats, anyway."

Alec blinked, his mouth forming a surprised 'o'. Then he nodded, slowly. His chest felt oddly warm. "Alright," he agreed. "If you're sure."

"Positive," Magnus confirmed. He glanced at the club's entrance, offering Alec his arm. "Shall we?"

Alec linked their arms by the elbows with a wide smile. "Lead the way."


	4. man of two worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had Hamilton playing in the background whilst writing so if there are subtle lyrics references, that's why. also this chapter was supposed to have more stuff but i decided to split it into two so it doesn't get too crowded -- stay tuned for more date shenanigans later on
> 
> song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **Pet Shop Boys** \- Domino Dancing  
>  **Taylor Dayne** \- Tell It To My Heart  
>  **Culture Club** \- Karma Chameleon   
> **Sandra** \- Maria Magdalena  
>  **F.R. David** \- Words  
>  **Modern Talking** \- Cheri Cheri Lady  
>  **REO Speedwagon** \- Here With Me  
>  **Ultravox** \- Man of Two Worlds  
>  **King** \- Love  & Pride

Seeing Magnus soon became a common fixture in Alec's routines.

They continued to meet up regularly – always on a Friday, always at the  _Indigo Devil_ , always just the two of them. Alec knew he didn't want for Izzy or Jace to meet Magnus, not yet, anyway – it would've only led to unwanted questions and raised brows and suggestive  _looks_ , and Alec had no clue how to navigate that, didn't have the answers to the questions he didn't know how to form, either.

Then, he had no clue how to navigate  _Magnus,_ either. Or more accurately, perhaps, he had no clue how to navigate his relationship with Magnus. It wasn't that he was completely oblivious to romance – he'd read books, and had given a stern warning to a number of Izzy's past boyfriends, and he wasn't an  _idiot_  (although, Jace might've argued him on that).

But everything felt so much more real when it was truly happening. When he was a part of the narrative.

It felt, in a way, as though Alec was travelling through a desert, and had now made it halfway through. The beginning was behind, the destination loomed ahead behind the horizon, unknown and distant – but it was impossible to see the route towards it in the sea of sand.

And he supposed he could've asked for advice from Isabelle or Jace, under the pretence that he was seeing a woman – but it didn't feel right, to lie to them like that, and besides—Alec's experience with Magnus was drastically different from what either of his siblings had ever had to deal with. When Jace had gone out with Kaelie, he hadn't had to hide it. When Izzy had been seeing Meliorn, she hadn't had to be afraid to hold his hand in public. None of their romantic relationships had put them under risk – so how could Alec have expected for them to be able to give him any advice, when he couldn't even tell them it was a man he was seeing?

Although,  _seeing_ might've been slightly presumptuous. He wasn't  _seeing_ Magnus, so much as he was spending time with him and getting to know him and flirting—admittedly badly—with him. Alec didn't know how to take the next step, so he was teetering on the edge, hoping that Magnus might break the glass and cross the invisible line they were looking at each over.

It was precisely one month after their first meeting when Alec found himself heading towards the familiar club once more, his head down and hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He'd chosen to wear the velvet jacket Magnus had given him— _it's like reading Jane Eyre_ , Aline had laughed—and had borrowed some of Izzy's eyeliner and such, the slightest bit, because Magnus has said one evening as they'd parted ways that Alec's complexion was wasted on him since he hadn't so much as  _glanced_ at make-up since that night a month ago.

And while Alec wasn't about to change himself for anyone, he didn't see the harm in dabbling in with some lined eyes and mascara. Besides – he didn't look half bad, wearing make-up. While he was no Marc Almond, he wasn't  _horrible_ , either.

Magnus seemed to disagree. He was waiting for Alec when he arrived, and grinned as soon as he saw Alec's face; a surprised, wide smile which made his eyes crinkle and Alec's stomach drop.

"You look…" Magnus started, struggling for words for a few seconds.

"Ridiculous?" Alec suggested, but a smile was tugging at his lips.

"I was about to say beautiful," Magnus countered.

Alec ducked his head slightly, staring at his shoes. "Well," he started. "I don't know about that. I'd say  _you're_ the beautiful one, here."

When he looked up, Magnus was smiling, but it wasn't a boisterous or smug smile—rather, he seemed, for lack of a better word, enamoured. Alec gulped, his eyes flickering across Magnus' features.

"'Sides," he continued, "I didn't really know what I was doing, so I think I messed up the corners."

They stared at each for a while, the loud music like a faint thudding in the background. Then Magnus shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "I'll teach you, sometime," he said. "You'll be a professional in no time."

Alec felt the implication behind his words –  _sometime_ , in the future, later; somewhere that wasn't this club, somewhere where they could  _be_  – and he swallowed the nerves building up alongside the excitement. "I'd like that," he said, and his voice had gone too quiet. "I'd—I don't know how regular of a thing this'll be, but I'd like that." He paused, measuring the weight of his words, and decided to take a leap further into the abyss. "I'd like to spend time with you, one day."

Magnus eyed him, curiously. "We're about to do that," he said, his voice a mask of carefulness.

"Yeah, but it's not—it's not the same as when my sister meets someone for dinner, or when my brother takes his date to the park. There's spending time with someone because they're nice and you want to be friends, and then there's…" Alec hesitated. "And then there's  _this_ ," he said, gesturing between the two of them. "And I think—I think we've been dancing around this, and I'm not sure I want to dance anymore."

There was a moment of silence, which felt like an eternity. Then Magnus' lips slowly curled into a smile. "I see," he said. "In that case – I think I'm quite tired of dancing, as well."

They smiled at each other.

"I know a place," Magnus offered, "that's open twenty-four hours and serves the best sandwiches in town."

Alec raised a brow. "The  _best_? Well, now we  _have_ to go there – I can't let you make unverified claims like that, can I?"

The place turned out to be just around the corner from the club, and was called, as the sign hanging above the door declared,  _N.Y.C Subz_. They walked in, not quite touching but not too far apart either.

The shop was lit on the inside with bright white lights that weren't quite natural and gave off the feeling of strange surrealism and timelessness. The floor was linoleum, with black and white tiles which seemed to reflect the light, creating an illusion that there would have been a thin layer of water across the floor. The wall which was adjacent to the street was filled with a row of crimson red booths and white tables, starting from beside the door – on the opposite wall there was a counter, and behind it, the kitchen.

It was empty, safe for one man sitting in the far end booth by himself, reading a book. He didn't look up when they walked in.

Magnus placed his hand on the small of Alec's back for just a brief second. "I'll go order – you pick us a seat," he said, and then his hand was gone, and Alec found himself missing the contact.

He sat down on the booth second closest to the door. The seats were soft, and though there was a piece of old lettuce stuck on the table, Alec already thought that  _N.Y.C Subz_ was, frankly, better than any of the high-class restaurants his parents had taken them to for a night out. They'd always made him uncomfortable – it was as if they had secret rules for etiquette that only certain people were privileged to know, and Alec was not one of those people.

Magnus slid into the seat opposite to him a few minutes later. He'd taken his jacket off, revealing a black, loose-fitting shirt which kept slipping off his other shoulder – it said  _YOU ARE THE PROBLEM_ in purple capital letters. The ' _you'_ was underlined – underneath it was a sketch of the white house.

"I like your shirt," Alec said, nodding towards it.

Magnus glanced down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing – then he let out a chuckle. "Thought I'd join in on the crowd," he said. "They make these down the street where I live. There's this basement full of people, all kinds of people of all ages. They're trying to make themselves heard. Figured I could help out."

"Maybe I'll get one, too," Alec mused, glancing out the window. "Although it seems you can never be too loud – some people will not hear you, no matter what."

"Awfully true," Magnus agreed. "But, we'll keep trying."

Alec nodded. His eyes slid back towards Magnus. "So, how'd you find this place?"

Magnus shrugged. "I knew the owner, Leopard. He was a good man."

"Was?"

"He had a tendency – admirable, but ultimately foolish – to put other people ahead of himself; even, and especially when he shouldn't have. He'd let homeless kids eat here for free, which was the admirable part – but then the next minute he'd take the blame for their petty crimes. Which ultimately got him in trouble with the law enforcement, and, well…" Magnus sighed. "Those situations never end well."

Alec nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. "Was he a—a good friend?"

Magnus waved his hand, as if brushing the comment aside. "He was, but it's in the past, now," he said. "And the new owner is a delight as well, I hear."

Alec relaxed against his seat. "A  _delight_ , huh?" He smiled. He felt, perhaps for the first time in years,  _content_. Magnus felt safe – his presence was calming in a strange, new way Alec was unfamiliar with.

Magnus shot him an amused look. "Are you mocking my choice of words?"

"No, never," Alec said, teasingly. "I think it's adorable that you talk like you immigrated from Britain a hundred years ago."

"First you insult my vocabulary, then you imply I look like a hundred-year-old – what am I to do with you, Alexander?" Magnus sighed, grinning all the while.

"I didn't imply—" Alec paused. His face broke into a wide smile. "Are you trying to fish for compliments? Because it doesn't take much effort."

Magnus shrugged eloquently. "I wasn't fishing for anything," he said. "Although I must say, being this rude to your date…"

Alec's heart did gymnastics he hadn't been aware it was capable of doing.  _Date?_  He supposed this was that, but somehow the thought hadn't registered before – he hadn't really considered any of their outings as  _dates_ , but this was, wasn't it?

"Date?" He asked out loud – he could tell his voice sounded strangled, and he cleared his throat.

"Did I assume too much?" Magnus asked, and for a second he seemed genuinely worried, as if a date with him wasn't exactly what Alec wanted.

"No," he hurried to reply, "no, no, not at all. It's just, I've—I haven't really done this before, you know, so I didn't…" The sentence drifted off. "No, you didn't assume. About—about anything."

Magnus searched his eyes for a few seconds, before finding what he had been presumably looking for. "Good," he said, smiling once more. "I haven't done this in a while, either."

Alec looked at him. "When was your last relationship?" He asked, half out of curiosity and half out of some feeling he couldn't quite place – it wasn't jealousy, but it seemed to swim along similar lines.

Magnus looked at the table, wistfully. "It was five years ago. I'd just turned eighteen, and so it felt like the entire world was open, just for me – no more schools, no more the restriction of being tied to a city – I could go anywhere, be who I wanted to be, do what I wanted to do. So, I left Detroit, with just my backpack and some money."

"Where'd you go?" Alec asked. "I mean, Detroit isn't exactly the epicentre of culture, is it?"

Magnus huffed out a laugh. "Well, no. The 70's left it in shambles, to put it nicely. It was a relief to be able to leave – things had grown to be a bit…  _tense_ , in my neighbourhood. I took the bus to Indiana, hitchhiked my way to Nebraska and from there took a bus to Washington – which was the worst two days of my life, might I add."

Alec raised a brow. "Why would you take the  _bus_?"

"Buses were cheap," Magnus said, "and the likelihood of me being robbed and murdered in a stranger's car was a bit too great for my liking."

Alec hummed in understanding. "Makes sense. So, you got to Washington?"

"I got to Washington," Magnus agreed. "And it was… well, like a dream come true, in a way. There I was, in a strange city, all by myself, living the life – or so I believed. Things were great. I slept in parks and street corners, I bought food with the little money I had, I worked odd jobs here and there for about half a year. Things were good." He paused, something flickering in his eyes – a passing look of darkness, or something akin to it. "And then I met Camille."

Neither of them said anything for a while. Sounds of clanking and whistling carried over from the kitchen.

"She was your girlfriend?" Alec asked after a moment of silence.

Magnus nodded. "At the time, she felt like the best thing that had ever happened to me. I'd never had a relationship before, safe for some flings at school. I fell head first into the abyss, fell head first in love, without stopping to consider anything." He paused. "Then, you can't  _consider_ falling in love, can you?"

"Wouldn't know," Alec said. _Yet_. Magnus shot him a smile.

"Well, be that as it may, we were in love. Or, so I thought. And maybe we were – I know I was, and perhaps Camille was too, at first. When I ran out of money and couldn't find a job, she introduced me to people she knew. When I was sleeping on the streets, she let me stay in her apartment. She was sweet, and caring, and—" Magnus paused, taking a deep breath. "And she loved me. She made me see life in a new way. We went to art shows, had walks by the river, dined at fancy restaurants."

Alec smiled softly. "She sounds lovely," he said.

"She was," Magnus agreed. His mouth turned into a frown. "Then things changed. I said I was going to go – I had turned twenty, I'd had enough of Washington. I'd seen the streets and heard the songs it had to offer, and I missed… I don't know what I missed, precisely. But I knew I wanted to leave."

"And something went wrong," Alec supplied. He put his hand on the table, his palm up – Magnus took his hand, gently, and gave a tight-lipped smile.

"Yes," Magnus confirmed. "Something went wrong, indeed. I told Camille that I was thinking about leaving. I told her I'd have liked for her to come along – move elsewhere with me, start a life in Ohio or Nevada, wherever. She… didn't take it too well. There was a lot of arguing, as you can imagine. She told me I was selfish, that she couldn't move, her life was there, in Washington. Of course I understood that – but  _my_ life wasn't in Washington." Magnus sighed – his shoulders were tense. Alec gave his hand a squeeze.

After a small while, Magnus continued.

"I told her that I was moving. I apologized – obviously I would've wanted for us to work, and I cared for her immensely, but Washington was becoming like a tomb. So, I left. She warned me that I'd be nothing without her, that she'd made me what I was, that I—I  _needed_ her. That eventually I'd come crawling back to her." He chuckled bitterly. "I suppose I've been proving her wrong ever since."

They sat together for some time, holding hands across the table. Alec didn't know what to say—he didn't think Magnus wanted pity from him, and he didn't know how to properly express his compassion. Alec cursed his incapability of putting his thoughts into words, cursed his stoic upbringing.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he eventually started. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Magnus opened his mouth, but Alec shushed him.

"Let me, just—what I'm trying to say is that, I know it must've been hard. To feel… betrayed, I guess, by the person who was supposed to love you. And I'm sure she did still love you, in some twisted way. But she did  _not_  make you into the person you are now.  _You_ did. All of this," he gestured towards Magnus, "is all you. And you should be proud of the person you've become. Because I know I am. Proud of you."

Magnus looked at him, a small smile playing at his lips. He bit his lip. "Thank you," he said – Alec thought his voice might've been a bit shaken. "That's very kind of you."

"It's only the truth," Alec said, shrugging. "But, seriously, like you said – it's in the past now."

"Yes," Magnus agreed. His smile grew a little, and the twinkle in his eyes returned. "And now look at me – on a date with the prettiest man in all of New York."

Alec let out a surprised laugh. "Me? The prettiest? Have you seen yourself—"

He was interrupted by the waitress coughing loudly beside their table. Alec glanced to his left, quickly withdrawing his hand back.

"Oh, no, don't mind me," she said, smirking. "It looked like you were having a moment, there, and I do hate to interrupt but these sandwiches are gettin' cold."

"Maia," Magnus said, smiling at her. "Always a pleasure."

"Likewise," the waitress – Maia – said. She placed their respective plates in front of them, then crossed her arms. "You haven't been here with anyone for as long as I've worked here," she continued, directing her words to Magnus, who rolled his eyes.

"Why do you feel the need to torment me?" He asked, but he was still smiling.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "You bring a mystery man here, what's a girl gotta do but be surprised?"

"Mystery man?" Alec asked, raising a brow.

Maia turned to look at him, giving him a wide grin. "Magnus usually comes in alone. He's certainly never brought anyone who calls him the 'the prettiest man in all of New York'."

Alec let out a strangled sound.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, probably picking up on his minor panic. "It's cool. I'm not strictly speaking only into men, either. 'Sides – anything for my favourite customer." She patted Magnus on the shoulder.

"Are you sure that's not only because I tip you well?" Magnus asked, amused.

She laughed. "That might be a part of it, yes." She let out a satisfied sigh. "Well, I'll leave you to it. It was nice meeting you, mystery man."

Before Alec could give her his name she had already turned around and made her way back to the kitchen. Alec turned to look at Magnus.

"She seems nice," he offered.

Magnus got a fond look in his eyes. "She's incredible," he agreed. "Maia's been through a lot – things that aren't my place to speak of. I look up to her a lot." Then he lifted his sandwich. "Besides, these are a work of miracle."

Upon his first bite, Alec found himself agreeing wholeheartedly. "This is amazing," he mumbled through the bread. "How come I've never heard of this place before?"

Magnus smirked. "There's a lot to New York I'm sure you've never heard of or seen before," he said. "You just need to know where to look to find it."

Alec glanced at Magnus. He had a crumb stuck on his chin. "You have…" he gestured vaguely towards his own chin.

Magnus wiped at his face, but the crumb persisted. "Is it gone?"

"No, it's—no, hang on." Alec reached over across the table, and gently brushed the piece of bread away. Then he leaned back and cleared his throat. "You should show me around some day," he said, returning to the previous topic. His fingertips tingled.

"Right," Magnus said, blinking at Alec. "Right, definitely. I'll—I'll arrange the best tour of underground New York you've ever seen."

"Well, now you're just getting my expectations up."

Five minutes later, the sandwiches were gone. Alec silently vowed to come back here as often as he could – he had no clue how they made the bread so soft, but it was  _heavenly._

Alec was about to say something when the doors flew open. A woman walked in – or  _strode_ in, wearing impossible looking heels – and glanced around her frantically. When she spotted Magnus, she made a beeline towards their table.

"Magnus," she breathed out as soon as she was standing next to them. "Thank  _god_ , I've been looking all over for you – we thought you'd been kidnapped, or something equally awful."

Alec recognized her as the same person who'd picked up the phone the first time he'd called Magnus' apartment.

Magnus frowned. "Catarina," he greeted her. "What are you—"

"Listen, it's about Ragnor," she interrupted. She'd barely glanced at Alec since she'd arrived. "He's drunk, and he's making a fool of himself, and you need to come help me drag his ass home before he starts sprouting depressive poetry to every stranger he meets."

Magnus clicked his tongue. "I see," he said. "Why is it that he always chooses to behave like a teenager when I'm busy?"

Catarina shrugged. She was wearing a black skirt with a blue top, her white hair falling across her dark shoulders in waves. "Go ask him," she said. "But  _honestly_ , we have to go. He's by the corner of 5th and Atlantic Avenue, yelling about minority rights."

Magnus stood up with a sigh, pressing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I'm so sorry," he said to Alec. "It seems my dear friend is being difficult." He paused. " _Again_."

"It's fine," Alec said. He didn't know what to do – was he supposed to stand up as well? "Really, go help your friend. I'll—I'll call you."

Magnus shot him a grateful smile, resting his hand on Alec's shoulder for a brief second before he walked out of the diner.

Catarina, without saying another word, slipped into the seat which had been previously occupied by Magnus. She leaned her chin on her palm, eyeing Alec curiously.

"So," she started, smiling. "You're the Lightwood kid."

Alec eyed her wearily. "You're the one from the phone."

"Catarina," she introduced. "Pleasure."

"All mine," Alec replied. "Is this the part where you tell me you'll hunt me down and break me if I hurt him?"

Catarina let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "That's very sweet," she said. "But, no. Magnus knows how to take care of himself – he doesn't need me looking after him. Although, obviously, if you  _do_ hurt him, I'll be glad to partake in any and all revenge missions, should those occur."

"Obviously," Alec echoed. "If this isn't a shovel talk, then why—"

"Alec," Catarina cut in. "I'm sure you're a great kid. If Magnus thinks you're okay, then I trust his evaluation – he's a very good judge of character." She paused, her smile dimming a little. "But I still hope you treat him right. He deserves someone good in his life – besides me and Ragnor, of course."

"I don't intend to screw this up," Alec said, solemnly. "He's—it's never been like this, before. For me. And I don't want this to be nothing."

Catarina nodded. "Good. I'm glad." She stood up, giving him once last smile. "It was great meeting you, Lightwood. I'll be seeing you around."

Then she was gone, and Alec was left sitting in the diner, blinking after her.

He walked home in the darkened night, avoiding the shortcuts. There was an elation to his step – he felt  _lighter_ , both physically and mentally. He was  _happy_. Alec smiled, kicking a tiny rock further down the asphalt road. He'd had a date. A real date, with someone who made him feel comfortable in his own skin, someone who made him happy and  _real_ and—and hopeful.

He had hope. For the first time in a long while, Alec had hope for his future.

He reached their house around two in the morning. It seemed looming in the dark, with the porch light turned on and the curtains drawn shut. Alec knew Maryse was home, along with his siblings – Robert was off to god knows where, once again – it had become a common thing. He seemed incapable of saying 'no' to new work trip offers.

Alec walked the path to the front door hesitantly. It felt as if as soon as he walked through the front door, the night was over. The feelings inside him would disappear, and he'd return to the pretending and lies and misery that accompanied him daily.

Instead of going inside, he sat down on the porch, his back towards the house.

A few minutes later the front door opened, startling Alec. He turned to look – Isabelle was standing by the doorway, staring at him suspiciously. She stepped outside, closing the door behind her. She sat down beside Alec, their shoulders touching.

"Hey," Alec said. "Why are you up this late?"

Izzy gave him a fleeting look. "Are you kidding me? You disappeared, again. You've done this every single Friday for nearly a month – you walk out the door, then you come back home in the early hours of the morning and refuse to tell us where you've been." She took a deep breath. "I'm tired," she continued, and her voice was trembling. "I'm tired of not knowing where you are, if you're okay, if you're coming back. I'm tired of—of these  _secrets_  between us."

She wiped at her eyes, and Alec felt his stomach swirl with guilt. He reached out, his arm curling around Isabelle. She leaned against his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I just want to know what's going on with you," she mumbled. "I don't… when did this happen to us? We used to tell each other  _everything_."

Alec swallowed, staring at the ground. He had to tell her. This was Isabelle – the same person who'd always been by his side, who'd always stood up to him, who'd always listened to him and comforted him and had his back. This was his  _little sister_ , and he was hurting her.

"You have to promise not to tell mom or dad," Alec started, quietly. "They can't know. You  _have_ to promise me."

"Yeah, of course," she said. "How many times have you lied to them for me? Obviously, I won't tell them, whatever it is." She paused, sniffling. "I mean, unless you murdered someone. Then I'll have to tell the cops."

Alec let out a laugh. "Don't worry, I didn't murder anyone." He considered his words. "I, uh, I've been seeing someone. Not that seriously, at first, but I think it's turning more serious. I hope it is."

Isabelle let out a huff. "You're telling me you've been going on a bender over some girl? That's Jace's job, you can't steal it – it's his only thing."

Alec took a deep breath in.  _Now or never._ "It's… it's not a girl that I'm seeing."

The ensuing silence was torturous. Alec felt like he was on fire and frozen at the same time, his insides turning over. Slowly, Isabelle untangled herself from Alec's hold, leaning back to look at him. The porch light created odd shadows across her face – somewhere, birds begun chirping.

"It's a guy?" She asked, carefully, her face not revealing anything.

Alec nodded stiffly. "He, um—His name's Magnus. The one who…" He drifted off.

"The one who wrote the number," Izzy supplied, nodding slowly. "I remember." Then she let out a laugh, half hysterical and half something else, and buried her face in her hands. When she emerged, she was grinning widely. "I can't believe it," she chuckled. "I thought you'd started selling yourself or something."

Alec blinked, then frowned. " _What_? Why would you think that?"

"Well, what else was I supposed to assume?" She asked, spreading her arms. "You kept disappearing during Friday nights, you said you needed to save money for a new jacket – one which suddenly appeared in your wardrobe, by the way—" She paused, her eyes widening. "Waaait," she said, dragging the word on. "Did he…?"

"He gave me the jacket," Alec confirmed. "He thought it, quote, 'looked good on me'."

"How cute," Izzy said, smiling. Then she sobered up. "I'm glad you told me, Alec. Really, I am. I want you to know, I don't have a problem with it. And you don't—you don't have to worry about mom and dad. I won't say anything to them."

"Thank you," Alec whispered. "They can't… they'd kick me out, if they knew."

Isabelle said nothing for a while. Then she reached for his hand, and shuffled closer.

"When did you know?" She asked.

Alec shrugged, not sure of the answer himself. "I guess I always sort of knew," he said. "Not that I became aware of it until there was this guy in my maths class."

She chuckled. "It's always maths class, isn't it?"

Alec huffed. The silence resumed.

"It's late," Izzy said after a while. "But tomorrow, you'll tell me all about this Magnus guy, deal? I want to finally tease you about your dating life."

Alec laughed. "Deal," he promised.

They walked inside.

Alec slept better that night than he had in some time.


	5. can't fight this feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: my google search history now includes "ruokarukous englanniksi (what's 'grace' in english)", "how to say grace" and "basic poker rules"
> 
>  **disclaimer** , i included "religious themes" now in the tags because i realized there's going to be some of that - so, there
> 
> song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **Nik Kershaw** \- The Riddle  
>  **Status Quo** \- In the Army Now  
>  **ABBA** \- Soldiers  
>  **Pet Shop Boys** \- It's A Sin  
>  **Led Zeppelin** \- Stairway to Heaven  
>  **REO Speedwagon** \- Can't Fight This Feeling  
>  **Asia** \- Who Will Stop the Rain?  
>  **a-ha** \- The Sun Always Shines on TV  
>  **Modern Talking** \- Heaven Will Know

Maryse was clinging her spoon against the tea cup, the rhythmical sound almost hypnotizing in the relative quiet of the living room. She was curled up on the couch with the TV on; some sort of an old movie was playing. She didn't seem to pay too much attention – her eyes had gone glassy, and she hadn't so much as blinked in a few minutes.

"Mom?" Alec asked from next to her, eyeing her with worry. "Everything alright?"

She blinked, as if suddenly waking up from deep sleep. She shuddered, and turned her head slightly to look at Alec. "Yes," she smiled. "I'm sorry, I got lost in thought."

Alec leaned back against the couch, frowning. "Thinking about what?"

Maryse averted her gaze, watching the TV. "Oh, just, the book club," she replied. "We have another meeting next Sunday, and last time we got this homework to read a chapter from this book, and think about what it means, and how its message could be applied to real life."

"Huh," Alec said. Maryse was fiddling with the hem of the quilt resting on top of her – her tell-tale sign of nervousness. "Which book is that?"

The TV's light illuminated Maryse's face in the otherwise dim room. Her tea cup was still steaming, curling up, held within a small distance from her lips, not quite touching. Her hair was open; it was still frizzy from her shower. She waved her hand absentmindedly. "I don't think you would know it," she said, her tone a little too light to be believable. "It's not quite your style, I think. A bit older – all of your books are so awfully modern."

Alec rolled his eyes. Since when was Agatha Christie  _modern_? But he supposed Maryse hadn't even seen his book collection in at least a year. For all he knew, she thought he still read cheap sci-fi and children's books.

"They're not 'awfully modern'," he grumbled. "And 'sides, what's wrong with modern?"

Maryse fell strangely quiet for a moment. She sipped her tea. "Nothing, I suppose," she said slowly. "I'm just… somewhat old-fashioned. All these changes that are happening, I don't know how to adjust to them." She glanced at Alec, smiling tightly. "It's all very new for me, you know? For all of us. I grew up with the aftermath of the war, and it hasn't been easy – all of these things that have been popping up since. All this new technology, these new waves of music, and films, and Lord knows what else. Nothing was the same after '45." She blinked into her cup, the movie playing forgotten in the background. "Nothing."

"You've never talked about it," Alec said quietly. "Grandpa being shipped to the front."

The spoon clung against the tea cup once more. Maryse kept her eyes cast downwards. "There's never been anything to tell," she started. "He left in 1942, when I was three – I don't remember much of him, truth be told. Later our aunt told me and Max that he had been glad to go; some marital troubles, some alcohol troubles, and such. Who knows how much of it is true – your grandma swore up and down until her deathbed that your grandpa was a good man. Then, she would have."

"Why's that?" Alec asked.

Maryse scoffed, softly. "She was always very dedicated to him. Never spoke a bad word about him in our presence, and never re-married when he didn't come back from Europe." She paused. "I don't think she cried at the funeral."

A heavy silence fell between them. Maryse rarely, if ever, talked about her past to them. Izzy had asked once, years ago, how she'd met Robert. "Through work," she'd replied, curtly, and that had been that.  _Through work_ was all they'd ever known about their parents' relationship.

Their uncle had visited them only once, when Alec had been fifteen and Izzy and Jace thirteen. He'd given them gifts, and had taken the cup of coffee offered, and had been gone before five. Alec recalled he'd seemed tense, and had barely exchanged any words with Robert, who'd gone to his study to sulk halfway through the visit. Maryse had reeked of silent disapproval the entire time.

After that, Alec supposed they'd all sort of pretended that he didn't exist at all.

"Do you know how uncle Max is doing?" Alec asked, feeling like he was opening a Pandora's box of things he couldn't unlearn. He pretended not to notice the way Maryse flinched at the mention of his name.

"We haven't spoken in three years," she admitted. "The last time I heard, he was living in California."

"Happily?" Alec asked.

Maryse shrugged. "Perhaps. I hope so." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "Lord know he deserves some happiness in his life."

Alec didn't prod. "Is he married?" He asked instead.

"I think so," Maryse said. "There was this girl, from church, when we were young… I think she loved him."

"We should go visit, sometime," Alec said. "Or, at least I think I'm going to."

Maryse turned to look at him with a small smile. "I can find his address for you," she offered.

Alec nodded, then turned his attention back to the television. "What were you watching?"

Maryse sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I think this is the re-run of  _Maybe I'll Come Home in the Spring._ I haven't seen it in a while."

Alec raised a brow. "Sounds boring."

"It's actually quite interesting," Maryse started. "You see, there's this girl…"

The next day, Tuesday, they all had dinner together. Robert was home for once, having returned from another work trip the same morning. He was in a bad mood – but it seemed he was in a perpetually bad mood lately. It was work, he grumbled under his breath. The work was stressing him out, and the traveling, and just didn't have time for anything, anymore.

They were all sat at the dining table at precisely half past six. Even Jace, who usually skipped on these family get-together's, was there, sitting next to Alec.

"We should say grace," Robert announced. His voice was stern – Alec thought it was the same, commanding tone he used at work, and that he couldn't turn it off anymore – didn't know how to.

Alec hadn't said grace in weeks. When Robert wasn't at home, it seemed to slip their minds most of the time.

Isabelle squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Alec swallowed empty air, staring down at the table. Jace fidgeted with his cutlery. It seemed that none of them were particularly excited by the concept.

"Come along, then," Maryse said. "Hands."

Alec took Jace's hand in his right one, and Robert's in his left. Jace's skin felt cold and sweaty, Robert's calloused and rough – Alec suppressed his reflex to shudder at the contact.

"Dear Lord," Robert started. He and Maryse had closed their eyes – Alec eyed Izzy from across the table, and they both seemed to feel the same, uncomfortable stab in their stomachs.

Alec didn't want to be partake in this. He knew what the church said of people like him and Magnus and Aline, and he had no need to be a part of an institution that disregarded his value as a human being.

"We thank you for this meal before us," Robert continued. His voice felt like it was coming from afar. "We thank you for keeping us all in good health, of both body and mind. We thank you for keeping us on the right path. We thank you for not letting us stray, and fall into sin."

Robert stopped, taking a deep breath. Alec felt his throat dry up, and bit the inside of his mouth, adamantly staring at the table. From the corner of his eye he could see Izzy try to catch his eyes.

"Amen," Robert finished.

"Amen," the rest of the table echoed faintly.

When they had all eaten, Robert retreated into the living room. Alec helped Maryse do the dishes, before going upstairs and into his own room. He flopped down on his bed, lying on his stomach. A few minutes later, Isabelle appeared next to him, sitting down on the floor.

"Is the door closed?" Alec mumbled.

"Yeah," Izzy confirmed. "Are you okay?"

Alec attempted to shrug, and failed. "I suppose. I've had to listen to dad's bullshit for so long, it's more like white noise by now."

Izzy glanced at him, lifting a brow. "Yeah, but it must be horrible. To know that he's preaching about you whenever he—"

"Of course, it's horrible," Alec cut in, quietly. "But I'm not going to change him. No one will. He's as adamant in his opinions and beliefs as I am in mine, and unfortunately, they collide in an ugly way. Neither will compromise. That's just how it is."

Izzy sighed. "I guess." She paused, and stood up. "Scoot over."

He did, and she lay down beside him, both of them staring up at the roof. Alec crossed his fingers over his stomach.

"I wish it was different," Izzy said. "I wish everyone realized that it doesn't matter who you love, as long as your heart's in the right place."

"When did you become so poetic?" Alec chuckled.

Izzy slapped his shoulder half-heartedly. "Shut up. I'm being serious." There was a small silence. "Everyone will sit under their own vine and under their own fig tree, and no one will make them afraid," she quoted quietly.

"Micah," Alec recognized. "Why—"

"I know that you and I don't have much fondness for the church," Izzy said. "But I need you to know that even if some people take the word of the Bible and abuse it to their own benefit, it's not  _my_ opinion, or Jace's. And there are people, lots of them, who think that love surpasses all." She turned to look at him. "No matter what kind of love."

Alec swallowed the pressure building up in his throat, and blinked up at the roof. "When did you grow up so much?" He wondered out loud, his voice raw.

Izzy let out a laugh. "Sometimes you look away for a small second, and then turn back and everything's changed."

Alec nodded. "I'm lucky to have you for a sister," he said. He turned to look at her, and smiled. "You know that, right?"

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Obviously," she drawled. Then her smile turned warm once more. "You're the best brother I could've ever asked for, Alec."

They both turned to stare at the roof, lying down in silence until the sun set and the streets fell quiet.

Alec met with Aline the following morning, around ten. Their usual table at the café was taken, and they begrudgingly sat elsewhere.

"Do you think it'd be possible to have that table reserved for us?" Aline wondered. "You know, buy it for some hours every Wednesday?"

Alec chuckled, settling in his seat. "That'd be amazing," he said. "Reserved under special orders for the queers."

Aline's loud laughter filled the café. "They'd rather take us to prison than let us have the table if that was what we said," she chuckled, but there was a cold truth behind her words.

"Let's not become martyrs," Alec agreed. "Unlike  _some_ people."

"God, will you ever let go of Wilde?" Aline sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Probably not," Alec admitted.

Their drinks arrived soon enough – tea for Alec, coffee for Aline. Black, no sugar. Alec wrinkled his nose, imagining the bitterness of it.

"Helen was asking about you," Aline said. "Said she'd heard some rumours."

Alec looked up, raising a brow. "What the hell," he said, slowly. "Rumours?"

Aline shrugged. "Someone saw you at the  _N.Y.C Subz_ the other night," she started. "Looked awfully lot like a date, from what I hear."

Alec squinted his eyes. " _How_ does Helen hear these things?"

Aline shrugged again. "I'm just repeating what I heard, Alec." She sipped her coffee. "So, date?"

" _Fine_ ," Alec huffed. "I had a date with Magnus. I told him I was tired of us dancing around the topic that is  _us_ , and so, well. He took me for a sandwich."

Aline stared at him in silence for a while. Then she burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand.

Alec levelled her with an unimpressed look.

It took her a full minute to calm down. "He took you," she said in between bouts of laughter, "for a  _sandwich_?"

"Yes," Alec said, pressing his lips into a thin line. "What's so funny about that?"

"I guess romance isn't dead," Aline chuckled.

"It was very romantic," Alec drawled. "There was a piece of lettuce stuck on the table and all."

Aline choked on her coffee. She coughed violently, setting the cup down on the table. " _A piece of lettuce_ ," she wheezed. "This is the best thing I've ever heard in my fucking life, Alec, I hope you know that."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you find amusement in the anecdotes of my life."

"Really, though," she said after a little while of trying to calm her breathing. "I hope you had a good time."

Alec smiled. The memory of Magnus slipped into his mind.  _The prettiest man in the whole of New York._ His chest felt warm. "Yeah," he said. "I had a good time."

"Well, then I'm glad," Aline concluded. "If he ever treats you wrong, me and Helen have some tricks up our sleeve." She sipped her coffee. "And Helen knows some people."

Alec blinked at her. "First of all, what tricks?" He asked. "Second – knows some people?"

"Well, I'm not going to tell you, am I?" Aline replied with a smirk. "A girl's gotta have secrets."

"Suspicious," Alec muttered. "How's Helen, anyway?"

"She's alright. Still seeing Jace regularly to keep up the appearances, of course, but that's only once or twice a week. I think I…" She trailed off, getting a faraway look in her eyes. "I think it's really something. That we have something special. Carolyn was—it was good, yeah, but Helen is on a different planet entirely. We just  _click_ , you know?"

Alec smiled into his cup. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

On Thursday, Maryse sent him to the library to get books for her club. Atwood, House and King – something else, too, but Alec forgot to write the name down. The library was on the other end of their suburban area, and their car was gone, along with Robert – this time he was in Kingston. A massive business deal, he'd said, a real breakthrough if he got it. Alec didn't really care. The house felt less tense when he was gone, and Kingston was far away enough to make Alec feel a little less suffocating.

It was a cloudy day. The sun was hidden away, leaving the air crispy cold with the incoming winter. Alec shuddered in his jacket as he walked towards the library.

Everything seemed grey. All the buildings, all the streets, all the people Alec came across – dull, and monotonic. The lights spilling out from various cafés and shops were enticing, but Alec didn't stop anywhere.

He reached the library around three. It was an intimidating building from the outside, looming in front of Alec. He walked up the stairs leading to the front doors, keeping his eyes on his shoes.

 _The Noble House_  he found easily, as well as  _The Dark Tower_ – but no matter how hard he searched, scouring through every single shelf and row, he couldn't find the final book on his list. Alec stared at the list in his hands – Margaret Atwood,  _The Handmaid's Tale_. It wasn't in the 'A' section of fiction. It wasn't in the 'M' section of fiction. It wasn't anywhere in non-fiction.

Frustrated, Alec went to the information desk.

"Excuse me," he said, and the woman sitting behind the counter looked up.

"Yes?" She smiled.

"I'm, uh, I'm looking for this novel, for my mom's book club," Alec explained. He showed her the list. "The Handmaid's—"

The woman clicked her tongue. "Ah," she sighed. "I'm afraid we're out of copies. It's awfully popular, though I cannot understand whatever for. All these grim visions of the future – as if today isn't grim enough."

Alec found himself agreeing. There were plenty of horrors found on the streets outside, enough for a lifetime. Alec read books to escape them, not to find more horrors inside the pages.

He thanked the woman, and left with the books he had found.

Outside, it had started to rain. Alec watched the downpour for a few seconds in silence, contemplating whether it would've been worth it to walk back home in the rain or to wait for it to stop. The books would be fine, tucked away safely in his bag – but it was heavy rain, and Alec was wearing his new autumn jacket.

Alec sat down on the stone steps, sighing. People kept walking by, holding their umbrellas. The rain was like white nose, drumming in Alec's ears. It was comforting, in its own way. It was a relief after being bombarded with Robert's demanding tone for the past two days.

There had been a time, long ago, when things had been better. Robert had been home more – he hadn't been burdened with work, yet, and had spent time with them out of his own free will, with no ulterior motive. Alec recalled him humming in the garden, mowing the lawn, with the midday sun shining down upon him. He'd burned his neck.

Maryse had smiled more. She'd laughed more. Isabelle had told them about her life, Jace had spent time at home. They'd been a family, once upon a time. Now Alec didn't know what they were. A group of people living under the same roof, pretending that things hadn't changed?

Alec wondered, for a brief second, if things could've been different. If Robert had never been promoted, if his prayers and foul mood hadn't driven Jace away, if his snide comments hadn't caused Izzy to turn away from them, if his heavy absence hadn't taken such a toll on Maryse who was left to carry everything on her shoulders, all by herself.

Alec shook his head. He shouldn't blame Robert for everything. Sometimes, things just happened. Sometimes, things went wrong on their own accord.

Sometimes, there was no one to blame.

The rain showed no signs of subsiding. On the contrary – it turned heavier, the droplets hitting the ground like bullets. The static-like sound filled Alec's mind as he stared up ahead.

Suddenly, someone sat down next to Alec. Startled, he turned to look to his right.

"What a coincidence," Magnus said, smiling at Alec.

Alec felt his body relax. "Magnus," he breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd borrow some reading. Winter's coming, and I still want to enjoy the autumn weather for a little while," he explained. "And you?"

Alec pointed to his bag. "Borrowed some things for my mom's book club," he said. "She's, uh, an avid reader. They meet up every Sunday, somewhere in the city."

Magnus nodded. "What a dutiful son," he commented with a smirk.

"Shut up," Alec said, and rolled his eyes. "She's a busy woman."

"I'm sure," Magnus agreed. There was a small silence. "Got any book recommendations for me, then?"

"Oh," Alec laughed. "I don't think most of the books I'd recommend can be found in a public library. They're too  _immoral._ "

"Immoral, hm? Well, now you've piqued my curiosity," Magnus mused.

"I mean, things like Wilde and Renault," Alec explained. "Things that describe us in a way that the general public doesn't want to hear about."

"Wilde," Magnus repeated. He was staring into the rain, somehow melancholic and joyful at the same time. "Do you know, what he said at his trial?"

Alec scoffed. "He said a lot of things. Which do you mean?"

"When asked about his lover's poem,  _Two Loves_ – you've read it?"

Alec nodded. "Obviously."

"When asked about it, and what the meaning of the phrase in it is, "the love that dare not speak its name", Wilde replied—"

"It is in this century misunderstood, so much misunderstood that it may be described as the "Love that dare not speak its name," and on account of it I am placed where I am now. It is beautiful, it is fine, it is the noblest form of affection. There is nothing unnatural about it," Alec interrupted, quoting from his memory. A sad smile played on his lips. "I remember when I read about it. I was seventeen, and still learning things about myself – well, still am, even now. But it was… it changed things. Wilde did, for me."

"Yes," Magnus nodded. "He had flaws, plenty of, but there's something severely haunting about him."

Alec glanced at Magnus. "Definitely," he replied. "He could've had an incredible future, you know?"

Magnus laughed quietly. "I don't know if today's world is  _incredible_ ," he said. "But certainly better than the 1890's, I'd say."

There was a short silence. Then Magnus stood up. "Well, I should go get those books," he said.

Alec glanced up at him. "Were you serious about those recommendations?"

"Of course," Magnus said.

They left the library together an hour or so later. The rain had quieted down into a drizzle, but had not ceased.

"Damn," Alec sighed. "I guess this means more waiting for me, then."

Magnus looked at him, lifting a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to walk home in this weather," Alec explained. "And I live on the other side of the town. Not really looking forward to getting pneumonia or something."

"You could always wait at my place," Magnus offered. "I live right around the corner. It'll be warmer than out here, at least."

Alec eyed him for a while. "Really?" He asked, tightening his hold on the strap of his bag. "I mean, that'd be great, if you're okay with it."

"I wouldn't ask otherwise, would I?" Magnus replied with a smile.

They half-walked, half-jogged their way to Magnus apartment. He lived in a building complex, hidden beneath a maze of alleyways and office buildings. They walked the stairs up to the fifth floor, and Alec stood a few steps behind as Magnus unlocked the door.

On the inside, the apartment felt so inherently  _Magnus_ that Alec had to smile. It was warm and welcoming – the colour scheme ranged from soft oranges to reds, with the occasional dash of darker tones. It was spacious, for an apartment in Brooklyn – two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room. The living room opened up immediately from the front door; it was an open space, with one couch and a few armchairs to the right, illuminated by a large window. To the left, there was a small kitchen. The bedrooms were side by side, facing the front door. Only one seemed to be permanently occupied, from the little Alec could see through the cracked door.

"It's nice," Alec remarked, stepping further inside. He had his hands in his pockets. "Must've been expensive."

"Not really," Magnus said. "I know the landlord, and he was very accommodating after I told him about my financial situation." Magnus paused. "Luke Garroway?"

Alec shook his head. "Never heard of him," he replied.

"Shame," Magnus said. He ventured off into the kitchen. "Want a drink? I've got coffee, tea, and…" Alec heard the sound of a cabinet being opened. "And whiskey, apparently."

Alec snorted. "What kind of whiskey?"

"Bourbon," Magnus replied. "Evan Williams. Must've been a gift, I don't remember buying this. I'm more prone to Irish."

"Sounds good to me," Alec said absentmindedly. He walked over to Magnus' bookshelf. "I like your collection. Lots of classics. Lots of modern stuff."

Magnus returned from the kitchen with two glasses and a bottle. He handed the other glass over to Alec, before sitting down on one of the armchairs. He left the bottle on the coffee table. "I like to have a balance of old and new," he said.

Alec nodded, sitting down opposite to him in the other armchair. "It's important to remember the past," Alec started, "whilst still keeping your eyes in the future."

Magnus hummed in agreement. He sipped his drink, and Alec mirrored his actions – it burned down his throat, and Alec pulled a face.

"Not much of a drinker?" Magnus asked, amused.

"Not much of a whiskey drinker," Alec clarified. He risked another sip. "Good, though."

The corner of Magnus' mouth twitched. "Not as good as Connemara," he said forlornly. "If I ever get to Europe, I swear I'm going somewhere that I can get Connemara from."

Alec looked at him. "Europe?"

"I'd like to travel, some day," Magnus said. "See Europe, see Asia, see Africa. Obviously, with my limited funds it's a bit unrealistic, but…"

"That sounds great," Alec said, genuinely. "I wish I could see more of America, at the very least. Anything really but New York."

Magnus smiled. "It's a great city, but if you've lived here all your life I could see it getting a bit tedious."

Alec laughed. "That's one word for it. It's just… very trapping. Being stuck in one place, with the same people."

"Especially when those people don't know the real you?" Magnus asked.

"Yeah. That, too." Alec paused. "Oh, I forgot," he exclaimed, looking up from his glass. "I told my sister."

Magnus made a surprised sound. "Really? How'd that go?"

"Good, honestly. She took it really well." Alec sipped the bourbon. "I mean—I guess I knew she would, but there's that small part of you that just… doesn't believe it. If it took _me_ years to come to terms with myself, how can someone else do it in mere seconds?"

There was a brief silence.

"Because they don't live your life," Magnus started after a while. "They don't live your experiences. They don't hear slurs and threats yelled on the streets and think, oh, this person wants to harm  _me_ for who I am. They think, oh, that is horrible, why isn't the world a better place. They're not put under immediate danger for things they have no influence over." He paused. "And it isn't just sexuality. It's race, it's gender, it's everything that isn't deemed the norm."

"Yeah," Alec agreed. "It's just sickening, that some people are so small minded that they can't cope with others not being a carbon copy of themselves."

"Us versus them," Magnus muttered into his glass. "Fear of the unknown. Anything that is different is uncontrollable and scary."

"It's like that Lovecraft quote," Alec said. "About fear of the unknown, and humankind. I can't remember it."

"Have you ever read Lovecraft?"

Alec hadn't.

Magnus retrieved a book from his shelf and handed it over to Alec. The cover was simply a black and white drawing of splashing waves.  _THE NIGHT OCEAN_ was written on it in block letters. Underneath it, it said  _H.P. LOVECRAFT & ROBERT BARLOW._

"No one's quite sure who actually wrote the book," Magnus said, "Barlow or Lovecraft. But it's a good read."

Alec turned the book over in his hands, before putting it in his bag. "Thanks," he said.

Magnus smiled, raising his glass in a salute.

Alec had finished his glass of bourbon and declined another one (he felt like his throat was going to melt) when Magnus snapped his fingers excitedly.

"Do you know how to play cards?" He asked.

"Sort of," Alec shrugged. "Depends on the game."

"Basic poker? I have some chips for it."

Alec agreed to a few rounds. He hadn't played in a few years, not since Jace had stopped spending time at home. Izzy was horrible with gambling and bets – she wanted high stakes, and she was strategic enough that a simple game of monopoly between the two of them could easily span out for hours on end.

Magnus laid out the cards. They'd moved to sit on the floor around the coffee table – the bourbon had been moved aside, and hadn't been touched since the first glasses had gone empty.

"None of my other friends ever want to play," Magnus said. "They think I'm cheating. As if it's my fault they're bad at it."

"Catarina?" Alec asked, recalling her from last Friday.

Magnus nodded, seemingly delighted that Alec had remembered. "Her, and Ragnor. We've been friends for quite some time. I met Catarina back in Detroit – we went to the same school. She's studying to be a nurse, now. Ragnor I met on my way out of Washington. We sat on the same bus, and he offered me weed." Magnus paused, counting the cards. "I refused, by the way."

Jace had had a phase of being high as often as he could when he'd been seventeen. Then it had turned unpleasant, and he'd stopped. Nowadays, he'd moved on to alcohol. Alec wished that one day he didn't need anything.

"That's… good," Alec replied. "So, how'd they meet each other, then?"

"Ragnor followed me to New York. We lived together for a while, before it turned out we both were unbearable roommates to each other. I introduced him to Catarina, in hopes of there maybe being some kind of a spark between them."

Alec took his cards, spreading them out so he could see them all. He had one pair of 9's, and that was it. He blinked. "And was there?"

Magnus' face was blank, safe for the smallest of smiles Alec's question brought about. "No, definitely not. But they did become fast friends, and since Catarina lived nearby, Ragnor moved there. I moved here, and the money from the old apartment was split between us." He eyed his cards. "I don't know what I would've done without them."

"I have the same with my friend, Aline," Alec said. "I'll raise." He frowned. "What are we even playing for?"

Magnus shrugged. "For the satisfaction of winning?"

Alec thought about it for a few seconds. "Sounds fair," he agreed, and placed more chips on the centre.

"I'll raise as well," Magnus said. "You mentioned your friend?"

"Oh, yeah," Alec said. "Aline. We met at this meeting for queer kids, when I was eighteen and she was nineteen. Became fast friends. She's a lifesaver, honestly."

Alec discarded one of his cards and drew another, with no gain. "Pass."

"That's not how you—" Magnus paused, smiling widely. "Fine." He discarded two cards and drew new ones. "Pass."

The game went on, until they showed their cards. Alec had the pair on 9's. Magnus had two pairs.

"Oh, come on," Alec said, laughing. "That's not fair."

"All fair's in poker," Magnus said with a hint of smugness, taking the chips in the centre and moving them to his stack. "Another round?"

They played on for some time, with Magnus winning most of the rounds. Eventually Alec glanced at the clock – it was a little past eight.

He hadn't realized it was that late.

"I should call mom," Alec said, setting his cards picture down on the table. "She'll think I've been murdered or something."

Magnus snorted. "My phone's right there," he said, pointing towards it. "Let's avoid potential police searches, if possible."

Alec walked over to the phone, dialling their home number. He twirled the cord as the line rang, staring at the wall. The tapestry was much nicer than what they had at home.

Maryse picked up on the third ring. "Maryse Lightwood, speaking?"

"Hey, mom," Alec said.

On the other end of the line, Maryse let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank  _God_. What happened to you? Are you—you're not calling from prison, are you?"

Alec frowned. "What? No, I'm not calling from  _prison_ , jesus, mom—" He broke off, taking a deep breath. "It was raining, so I stayed at a—a friend's place. I'll come home later, okay?"

"What sort of a friend?" Maryse asked. There was an odd tone to her voice Alec couldn't place. "And where?"

"Just, someone I met a while ago, alright? His name's Magnus. He lives by the library."

There was a small silence. "Alright," Maryse finally said. "Well, thank you for calling. I'll save a plate for you, okay?"

"Okay," Alec said. "Thanks, mom. See you later."

He hung up before she could respond, his shoulders sagging. Alec turned around, only to find Magnus standing in front of him, smiling slightly.

"A friend, huh?" He asked, raising a brow.

Alec huffed. "Well, I can't really tell her what you actually are, can I?"

There was a pause where they looked at each other. The room suddenly felt like the heat had been turned up – Alec swallowed, his eyes flickering across Magnus' face.

"What am I, then?" Magnus asked quietly, stepping closer.

They were almost touching. Alec could see every detail on Magnus' face – he could have counted his lashes if he'd wanted, could have named all the different shades his eyes were, could have differentiated between the various colours on his eye lids. Alec blinked rapidly, feeling his skin tingle.

"You're—you…" he mumbled, not knowing how to voice his thoughts out loud. "Magnus," he whispered.

And then, Magnus leaned closer to press his lips against Alec's, softly. Alec's eyes flew shut. His hands ended up on Magnus' waist, and Magnus' arms around his shoulders, just like that night nearly a month ago, at the club, when they'd been dancing together.

They broke apart. Alec leaned his forehead against Magnus', his eyes still held shut. He didn't want to open them, fearing that he'd wake up to find that his had been a dream – that he wasn't truly here, pressed against Magnus, with the rain thudding quietly against the window in the background.

"You should've done that sooner," Alec eventually whispered against Magnus' lips. He felt them curl into a smile, felt the huff of laughter.

The cards remained forgotten on the coffee table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mentions of Oscar Wilde are incredibly self-indulgent. I just love him very much.
> 
> Also the Lovecraft quote Alec can't remember is: "The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown". I used it in my Theory of Knowledge presentation last spring, and I really liked it, so.
> 
> Speaking of Lovecraft, if you haven't, I'd _highly_ suggest reading Paul la Farge's "The Night Ocean". One of my all time favourite books.


	6. here comes the rain again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo so 1) it's 7 am and i have not slept at all and i wrote 75% of this in one sitting because 2) i had some mental health stuff going on and didn't feel like writing for a while until 3) i listened to pet shop boy's "rent" and here we are
> 
> **heads up warning** that this chapter includes robert's extreme homophobia
> 
> song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **Culture Club** \- Time (Clock of the Heart)  
>  **Extreme** \- More Than Words  
>  **Pet Shop Boys** \- Always On My Mind  
>  **Eurythmics** \- Here Comes the Rain Again  
>  **Tears For Fears** \- Pale Shelter  
>  **a-ha** \- Crying in the Rain  
>  **Pet Shop Boys** \- Rent  
>  **a-ha** \- Early Morning

Alec laid on his back, holding  _The Night Ocean_ above his head. His arms were getting sore, but he couldn't be bothered to roll over, or stop reading. He was only a few pages in, but the words had him in their grips – Alec hadn't read anything worthwhile in some time, and he was now readily devouring the sentences in front of him. The story itself wasn't something he could fully relate to – he wasn't an artist, nor had he ever lived alone in a foreign city. But between the lines he could read a bone-deep loneliness, and a sense of isolation – and that he understood.

And, besides, even if the book was something Alec usually would've never bothered with, it was from Magnus. Somehow, it felt as if reading it would open some sort of insight into Magnus as a person – Alec was adamant about his opinion that a person's book collection told more about them than spoken words ever could.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he thought of Isabelle and Jace.

Izzy's shelves were covered with academic papers, scientific magazines and the occasional romance novel, which she claimed to only read to escape the strictness and rigidness of her other books. Alec believed her. He also knew she had been hiding self-defence manuals for some years now, tucked inside the boards of her bed frame. All of this spoke volumes of what Alec already knew to be true about Isabelle – that she was dedicated to learning, but that there was also a place for romance in her heart; yet she had no qualms about booting anyone who tried to take advantage of her.

Jace, on the other hand, only had a few poorly written sci-fi and horror books bought from an antiquarian with a couple of bucks. The rest of the space on his shelf was occupied with records. They weren't arranged alphabetically, but rather by the genre – and, Alec suspected, with the most listened to and cherished records earning a top spot whilst the drunken mistakes lay down by the floor level.

Alec glanced over to his own bookshelf. Some pieces he'd put on the floor after he could no longer fit them on the shelf. To an outsider, it looked like a mix of fantasy and sci-fi, now that he had stuffed his queer themed books on the back – he didn't need anyone going through his belongings and discovering them. Robert, especially. Alec had nowhere to go if they kicked him to the curb.

The door to his room creaked open, and Alec glanced at it, his shoulders tensing automatically. It was Isabelle – Alec breathed a sigh of relief. She looked like she was about to go out, with the right side of her hair curled up and falling across her shoulders and the left side pinned down. Her colour scheme for tonight was clearly red – Alec raised a brow at her jacket.

"I thought you said shoulder pads had gone out of fashion?" He asked, setting his book down on his stomach.

Izzy shrugged. "They're making a comeback. And besides, this was the only jacket that fit my make-up." She walked inside and sat by Alec's desk, crossing her legs. Alec raised another pointed brow at her fishnet stockings. Isabelle rolled her eyes. "They're in fashion. And I like them. And you have no right to comment on my appearances – I've seen your wardrobe."

"What's wrong with my wardrobe?" Alec asked, feeling only mildly insulted.

"What isn't?" Izzy retorted. Then she tilted her head to read the cover of Alec's book. "The… Night Ocean?"

"Yeah," Alec confirmed. "Magnus borrowed it to me."

"Oh," she smiled. "I see. Magnus borrowed it." She said it in a way that made Alec's face feel warm.

"What?" He asked defensively.

"Nothing," she said. Her lips kept tugging upwards. "Nothing at all."

Alec sat up, crossing his legs. " _What_?" He repeated.

Izzy shook her head. "You've never been like this, that's all. It's nice."

Alec looked quizzical. "Like this?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Letting someone in. Someone that isn't me, or Jace, or Aline. And even Aline was a bit of a surprise to me, honestly, you making friends with someone you met at the library—" She cut herself off, leaning back in sudden realization. "Hang on. You didn't meet her at the library, did you?"

Alec's guilt must've shown on his face, because Izzy gasped and snapped her fingers in his direction.

"I knew it," she said, "I knew you didn't meet her at the library, you liar. What really happened?"

Alec sighed, leaning against the wall. He placed the book down next to him. "There was this meeting," he started, "for… for gay kids. Three years ago. I went, for the sake of trying. They held it in this dingy basement – I remember the lights didn't work properly. And it was scary, you know? Me, alone, in this shady basement with a bunch of people I didn't even know. Someone next to me started smoking, and I thought, I'm out." Alec smiled. "And on my way I ran into Aline."

"She was… going to the meeting?" Isabelle asked, carefully.

Alec gave a nod. "She's… yeah. She has a girlfriend."

Izzy smiled, leaning closer. "No wonder you two never dated, then," she laughed. "Who's she seeing?"

"Oh, I don't—"

The door creaked again. Alec and Izzy both turned to look at Jace, standing in the doorway with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His hair was done, and he was wearing his nicest shirt and official date jeans. Alec raised a brow.

"Hey, gossip hens," Jace greeted. "I'm meeting Helen in a while, we're seeing Fatal Attraction at the movies. Izzy, you walking my way?"

Izzy rolled her eyes. " _Gossip hens_ ," she muttered under breath. Then, louder, she said, "Yeah, I'll be down in a second."

Jace nodded, shot them both a tiny smile and then walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

"So?" Izzy asked, turning back to Alec. "Who's Aline seeing?"

Alec opened his mouth, only to close it. He shook his head, staring at the floor. "I'll, uh. I'll have to ask her if it's okay to tell," he finally said. "It's a bit—complicated."

"Oh, okay." Izzy sounded only marginally disappointed. "Well, do keep me updated." She sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I guess I should go. I'm meeting Clary soon."

"You don't sound too excited," Alec commented, frowning. "What's wrong?"

Izzy sighed again, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. "I don't know," she said, sounding resigned. "It's just – it's been a bit weird, lately. With Clary."

"How come?"

Izzy hesitated for a second. "I think she's seeing someone," she said, biting her lower lip. "And it's… I don't know. It's not like I'm  _jealous_ , it's just… she's spending a lot of time with him. With Simon."

Alec eyed her for a while, thinking. "Are you sure she's seeing this Simon kid?" He asked, finally.

She shook her head. "Well, no. It's just the way she talks about him, sometimes. They've been friends for forever, and it's never bothered me before, but…" Izzy trailed off, staring at the hands. "But anyway, it feels weird. And it's not like I can ditch her on a Friday night, you know?"

Alec didn't know. "Yeah," he said. "Just… don't freak out over nothing, okay? Talk to Clary about it. Ask her if she's dating him. And then we'll take it from there." He leaned closer to place his hand over hers, smiling. "You can always talk to me, alright? About anything."

Izzy smiled back, huffing. "I know, I know," she said. "Thank you."

"Izzy! I'm leaving in a minute!" Jace yelled from downstairs, the voice echoing slightly in the empty house.

"Coming!" Izzy yelled back. She stood up, fixing her hair slightly. "Do I look decent?"

"You know you look good," Alec laughed. "Go, have fun. The night's young, and such."

She shot him a mischievous look. "Are you going to call Magnus?"

Alec did not blush. "Get out," he mumbled, but he couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips.

Once Isabelle and Jace had left, the house fell quiet. Robert was working, and Maryse had gone out with her friends. Alec hadn't even known she had friends anymore, much less who they were, or what they did that constituted as 'fun'. Maybe it was for the better – Alec couldn't imagine his mother laughing at the club with her friends, couldn't see her relaxing. Maybe it was because of Robert. Maybe not.

Alec sighed and flopped back down on the bed, staring up at the roof.

Things were good.

He wasn't sure how such a simple observation could feel so revolutionary, but it was true. Isabelle knew, and it felt as though that had only brought them closer together. He had Magnus—well. He didn't  _have_ Magnus, but they were… something. Alec was unsure of labelling it, afraid that then it would become something that could be taken away.

But it was good. Magnus was good. They were good. Everything was good.

Except for Jace.

Alec's brows turned into a frown. He knew Jace wasn't doing alright. He was skipping school, he was coming home late, and he wasn't – as far as Alec knew – talking to anyone about it. Jace had never been one for explaining himself, but there had been a time when he'd shared everything with Alec, all the way from his first crush to his first girlfriend to his first hungover.

Now, they only talked about unimportant things.

It was like the whole of Alec's family had become strangers to him, and he hadn't even realized. Robert was away more often than not. Maryse was spending all her free time at her book club. Jace spent his nights God knew where. Even Isabelle, whom Alec considered to know the best out of their family, had become somewhat distant – he had no idea who her friends were, or what she wanted from the future. Was she seeing anyone? Did she want to ever get married? Was she going to stay in college, or did she want to drop out?

Alec didn't know anymore.

He closed his eyes, and slowly drifted off to sleep with Magnus' book laying atop his chest.

Sunday found Alec walking across town over to Magnus' apartment. He'd called earlier, asking him if it was alright that he came over – Magnus had gladly agreed. Izzy had given him knowing looks across the table during lunch, and Alec had pointedly ignored her in favour of stabbing the tomatoes on his plate with his fork.

Magnus opened his door wearing black jeans and a  _Depeche Mode_ T-shirt, and Alec felt his eyebrows climb up against his will.

"Good to see you again," Magnus said with a smile, and stepped aside to let Alec in.

"Yeah, you too, you—you look really nice," Alec said, dusting his pants. "Not that you usually don't, but…"

Magnus laughed, and shut the door. "Well, thank you," he said. "You look nice, as well."

Alec glanced down at his outfit – faded jeans, a black turtleneck he'd found in the bottom of his closet, and his dad's old shoes. "No need for fake flattery," he joked, and looked up to find Magnus noticeably closer than before.

"Nonsense," Magnus said. A smile was tugging at his lips – he leaned closer to peck Alec on the cheek, before withdrawing and walking past him into the living room. "Do you have any music preferences?"

Alec blinked into the direction of the kitchen for a while, before shaking his head and turning around with a grin. "What do you have?" He asked, and joined Magnus, who was eyeing his record collection. They stood side by side, their elbows touching, and Alec resisted the urge to wrap his fingers around Magnus'.

"Oh, mostly older things," Magnus sighed. "Kansas, Cass Elliot…"

Alec scanned the album names, occasionally tilting his head left or right to see it properly. "Oh," he exclaimed as he got to the second to last row, reaching out to pull one album out. "You've got Actually."

Beside him, Magnus hummed. "Perks of owning a record store – I get all the new releases quickly."

"You own a record store?" Alec asked, without thinking. He turned his head away from the album to look at Magnus, who was smiling slightly. "That's incredible. Where is it?"

"I'll show you some day," Magnus said noncommittedly. "It's a bit underground. Clearly, if we sell Bronski Beat and Neil Tennant."

Alec grinned, his eyes wandering back towards the cover of Actually. "Is it true, then?" He asked. "That he's gay?"

Magnus carefully picked the album from his hands and wandered towards his record player. "Perhaps," his voice carried over. "Perhaps not."

The couch made a soft groaning sound as Alec sat down on it. He stretched his legs across the living room floor, over the fluffy Persian carpet, and tilted his head so that the back of it rested against the back board. "I think he is," Alec said.

"Or, you  _hope_ ," Magnus chuckled. Soon, music begun playing – quietly, yet loud enough that Alec could hear it without having to strain his ears. Then the couch dipped as Magnus sat down next to him – Alec lifted his head.

Alec felt acutely aware of how the tips of his fingers were touching Magnus' shoulder, and how Magnus' knee kept knocking against his, and how Magnus' chest was rising and falling steadily whereas Alec felt as though his heart was about to burst from his ribcage.

"I missed you," Magnus said after a small while. It didn't sound like a confession, more like a casual statement – but what the hell did Alec know, anyway?

"You, too," Alec said. Then, not knowing what else to say, he added, "I read your book."

He turned to look at Magnus just as the other man closed his eyes and leaned his head against Alec's extended arm. "Did you like it?" Magnus asked.

Alec shuffled closer on the couch, careful not to move his arm too much. "Yeah. It was a bit depressing, and maybe… maybe a little too pretentious, at points. But I liked it."

Magnus hummed. "I thought you might," he said.

They remained like that until the record stuttered to a stop.

It became a sort of a habit, soon enough. Alec would call Magnus up, twice or thrice a week, and go over to his apartment to spend some time. Usually it meant going through Magnus' records (and sometimes, Alec brought his own albums), and lying on the couch – gradually, the distance separating them turned into less and less, and they developed another habit of Alec lying on his back on the couch with his head in Magnus' lap as the other man read.

Magnus' apartment felt so different from Alec's house. Where their two-floor domestic disaster was cold and distant, Magnus' apartment – with its decorations and big windows and warm colours – was welcoming and cosy.

And Magnus, himself, felt right in all the ways Alec had never expected he'd be able to feel. He was steady, and open, and understanding – and Alec could have waxed poetry about him from dawn to dusk, and still he wouldn't have been able to describe the sensation of pure  _content_ he felt as Magnus carded his fingers absently through Alec's hair as music played softly in the background and rain poured down against the windows.

Alec never asked, and Magnus never told – and so the exact definition of what they were was left hanging in the air. Alec didn't mind—but Izzy was slowly losing her mind over it.

"Are you two dating?" She asked, exasperatedly, one Saturday evening a few weeks later. She was sitting on Alec's bed with her hair pulled up into a haphazard ponytail, and wearing his old pyjama pants, which were ridiculously long on her – she didn't seem to mind that she had to roll the legs over thrice in order to not trip when walking.

Alec shrugged. "I guess?" He answered, realizing himself that it sounded more like a question than a statement. "Yeah," he amended. "I mean, yeah, I think so."

Izzy sighed, and even without looking up Alec could hear her throw herself on the bed. "You guess," she echoed. "You think so. Just  _ask_ him, Alec, for the love of God."

"Why?" Alec asked. "We're fine as is. There's no need to announce it in the church, Izzy. We're… we're together, and that's that."

Another sigh. "Fine," Isabelle conceded. " _Fine_. As long as you're happy. But if something happens—"

"I know about the self-defence manuals," Alec finished for her. "I'm sure you'd be more than willing to defend my honour."

"Obviously," Izzy drawled. "You're my big brother –  _someone_ has to look after your sorry ass."

Alec snorted. "I feel the love."

"Good." Izzy sat up, and the bed creaked. "What are you doing?"

Alec turned the page in the sketchbook in his hands. "Magnus gave me some of his drawings to look at," he explained absently. "He's actually very talented."

Isabelle leaned closer to look at the book. "Yeah," she agreed. "Is that his apartment?"

Alec hummed in confirmation. "It looks better in person," he said, and turned the page again.

Suddenly, his heart stopped for a split-second, and his stomach did somersaults.

There, sketched in with a pencil, was Alec. He was asleep on Magnus' couch, his mouth hanging slightly open. A blanket was draped over him, so Alec figured this was from last Monday. On the next page was another sketch of him, more detailed; Alec was frowning down into his glass of scotch, his face caught in an expression of mild disgust. Another one of him smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling. One of Alec staring out the window as it rained in the background.

Alec swallowed, blinking down at the pages. He traced the outline of his smile with his finger, careful not to smudge the drawing.

"Well," Izzy broke the silence, sounding slightly shaky. "I guess that answers it, then."

"Guess so," Alec agreed weakly.

He kept one page – a portrait of Neil Tennant, signed as  _M.B._ Above the signature it read  _"Every time I see you, no matter what we do, there's a strange reaction, can you feel it too?"_

The next Tuesday, Robert insisted he take Alec to the city to go look for jobs. Alec wasn't sure how walking around town constituted as "looking for a job" – it wasn't as if someone would spontaneously offer him one for simply  _existing_. But Robert seemed genuinely excited about spending time with him, and Alec didn't have the heart to say no.

"I think you'd make a great businessman," Robert was telling him as they walked 7th Avenue with the sun shining above them, too bright for early November. It was getting cold – Alec walked with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his winter coat.

"How come?" He asked with no real interest, eyeing the café across the street. It looked warm, and welcoming, and Alec realized with a sudden jolt that he missed Magnus' apartment. He missed  _Magnus_.

"You've always been so naturally talented in making people see what they want to see," Robert explained. "But you do it with such honesty. Remember that one time you convinced Izzy to give up her toy because it was broken? You didn't even have to give her anything in return, even though when me or your mother tried the same she'd demand for a replacement. She was seven, I think."

Alec side-eyed Robert. "She was five," he said coolly. "And it wasn't a toy, it was her favourite shirt. The one with the horse?"

"Ah," Robert said. "The horse. I remember, now."

There had been no horse on that shirt – Isabelle had always been afraid of horses. Alec scoffed quietly, and shook his head. "So, how much further—"

He was interrupted by someone calling his name from behind them. Alec turned around, raising his brows – his face split into a grin as soon as he saw who it was.

Magnus was walking towards them along the street, carrying two bags in his hands. He was wearing a long, black coat with matching boots – the coat's collar had been turned up. His hair had a blue tint to it, and, as he got closer, Alec noticed that his eyes were shaded with a similar tone.

"Hey," he breathed out as Magnus stopped a few steps away. "What are you doing here? You live on the other side of town."

Magnus shrugged, smiling. "Had to run some errands," he said. Then he turned his attention to Robert, who was standing beside Alec. "Good afternoon. You must be Robert?"

Robert scowled, but attempted a smile regardless. "Yes," he said slowly. "And you are…?"

"This is Magnus," Alec stepped in to say. "My—a friend."

He didn't miss the way Magnus' smile faltered, just the slightest bit. "Yes," he said. "Magnus Bane, it's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Robert said. "Alec has never mentioned you before, I don't think."

Alec forced his lips into a thin smile. "I have," he said. "It's just that you haven't been around too much."

Robert opened his mouth, then closed it. He shot Alec a weary look, before letting his eyes sidle back over to Magnus. "What Alexander means to say is that I've been away for work," Robert clarified. "But it's always pleasant to meet his friends." He paused. "He doesn't seem to have many."

"Strange," Magnus remarked. "When he's such a beaut— _nice_  person."

Robert smiled, strained. "Right," he said. "Isn't it just?"

The three of them stood in tense silence for a few seconds. Then Magnus lifted his bags, and shot Alec an apologetic smile. "I have to go," he said. "These aren't too light to carry."

Alec nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Of course. I'll—I'll call you later?"

Magnus smile in lieu of a response, and then waved them goodbye, disappearing across the street.

"What an odd man," Robert said after he was gone, and Alec felt his jaw clench. "Was he—was he wearing make-up?"

They resumed their walking. "He was," Alec confirmed. "What about it?"

"Well," Robert started, "seems a little… queer, doesn't it? He isn't one of those cross-dressers, is he?" He sounded horrified by the mere idea.

Alec took a deep breath. "No. And even if he was, it doesn't matter. He's my friend. I don't care what he looks like."

He heard Robert hum. "I will never understand you young people," he sighed. "So liberal. Not everything should be accepted, Alexander. Not everything needs to be."

Alec's left eye twitched uncomfortably. "What do you mean?" He asked, despite not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Well, I'm just saying – all these poofs dying, I heard it on the news the other day. It's a message. A warning," Robert said. His tone was light, and Alec bit his lip, his nails digging into his palm. "A warning from God – you should not be like this. This is what happens." He glanced at Alec with a smile. "Good riddance, I say."

Alec didn't say anything for the rest of the walk.

That night, he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Robert's words kept playing over in his head, on a loop –  _good riddance_. Alec blinked at his tapestry in the dark of his room. Good riddance? Would he have said the same things, had he known – would it have changed anything, if Robert had known his own son was one of the people whose deaths he was celebrating? Or would it have given him more incentive?

Maybe he did know. Maybe he did know, and wanted to let Alec know, in some subtle way, that he needed to change.

Alec turned over once more, and kicked at his sheets. He felt, at the same time, like he was burning and freezing. His stomach couldn't seem to settle down, and his thoughts refused to calm down – Alec kept tapping against the side of his leg, a tune he couldn't remember the lyrics to.

Magnus' face flashed in his mind, the slight flicker of hurt in his eyes— _a friend_. What else was Alec supposed to say?

He turned over, and found himself face to face with Magnus' drawing, taped to the side of his desk next to his bed. Alec couldn't make out the details in the dark, but it seemed as though the portrait was glaring at him.

Abruptly, Alec sat up. The house was quiet – everyone was asleep. Alec stood up and tiptoed downstairs.

Twenty minutes later he was standing outside of Magnus' door, his hand raised hesitantly. Should he knock? Should he be here at all? Alec wasn't sure what time it was, but he guessed it was late. Too late for a visit anyway, and yet,  _good riddance—_

Alec knocked sharply, thrice.

Magnus opened the door a minute later, squinting his eyes sleepily. "Alexander?" He whispered, frowning.

"I'm sorry," Alec blurted out. "I shouldn't have—it's late. I'll just, I'll go—"

But before he could do anything, Magnus wrapped his hand around Alec's upper arm, stopping him. "You're freezing," he noted.

It was only then Alec realized that he'd forgotten to take a jacket. He shivered. "Yeah."

"Come in," Magnus said, pulling Alec inside the apartment and closing the door behind him. He sat Alec down on the couch and wrapped him up in a blanket. A few minutes later he was pressing a cup of tea into his hands.

Magnus sat down next to him, and Alec slumped against him instinctively, letting his eyes flutter shut.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" Magnus asked gently. "It's three in the morning, Alec."

Alec opened his eyes. He stared into his tea, blinking slowly. "My dad, he… after you left. He said some things, I didn't—" Alec paused. "He said some things I didn't know he was capable of saying."

He felt Magnus' hand reach around his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"'S not your fault," Alec whispered. "He, uh…" His throat felt tight. "There had been something on the news, about us… dying. And... good riddance." Alec's voice sounded strangled. "He said, good riddance."

Magnus' hold tightened. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "That's—" It seemed like he couldn't find the words to describe it.

"I know," Alec agreed quietly. "It's—my own dad wants me dead." His voice broke on the last word, and Alec realized, belatedly, that he was crying.

Magnus said nothing. He pressed a kiss to Alec's forehead, and leaned closer.

They sat there until the morning sun climbed up.


	7. here i stand and face the rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soz i'm not very good at writing aftermaths of emotional situations. also mostly i'm now just tying up loose ends and getting ready for the final chapters - so, if this isn't the most exciting chapter, that's why, haha
> 
>  **heads up warning** for semi-graphic descriptions of injuries, very brief and mild but still
> 
> songs recs for this chapter:
>
>> **R.E.M** \- Everybody Hurts  
>  **Spandau Ballet** \- True  
>  **Queen** \- The Show Must Go On  
>  **Sisters of Mercy** \- This Corrosion  
>  **Quiet Riot** \- Condition Critical  
>  **Jackson Browne** \- Lives In The Balance  
>  **a-ha** \- Here I Stand And Face The Rain  
>  **Freddie Mercury** \- The Great Pretender  
>  **Talk Talk** \- Have You Heard the News  
>  **Depeche Mode** \- Enjoy the Silence

Alec woke up on Magnus' couch, with an elbow digging into his ribs. It was Magnus' – Alec gently lifted his head from where it had been resting against his shoulder, and leaned away. Magnus was slumped against the backrest of the couch, his head thrown back. His lips were slightly parted, and his lashes kept flickering as if he was in the middle of a dream. Alec noticed creases in Magnus' shirt from where he'd been pressed against him, and his lips twitched a little. Sunlight was streaming into the room through the large windows.

Alec glanced at the clock. Nine in the morning.

His stomach flipped over.

He vaguely recalled the previous night – Robert, and then running across town at the early hours of dawn, sitting here on the couch with Magnus beside him. He couldn't remember falling asleep, but it couldn't have been too many hours ago; Alec's body felt too wired and aching for his sleep to have been long and restful.

Alec felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach; he'd probably woken Magnus up, had disturbed his peaceful night.

But then, had it been Magnus knocking on Alec's door at the dead of night, looking as he had – he wouldn't have done any different.

Alec felt as though he'd been run over by a truck: his eyes were aching, there was a crick in his neck, and his throat felt like it was filled with tiny shards of glass. He glanced around the living room blearily. It looked the same as it always had, except a little cleaner, more put together.

Alec fell back against the couch, sighing. Going home sounded like the last thing he wanted to do right now, and besides, he couldn't leave Magnus without saying a word.

Robert's face floated in his mind, his sneers ringing in his ears.

Alec supposed he'd known, had been aware of what Robert thought – what most people did. But to hear it said so bluntly, with such nonchalance – Alec felt his chest tighten.  _Good riddance_. Was Alec good riddance, to Robert? He supposed so. Alec wanted to believe that being his son would change things, but if he was being honest with himself, he knew it didn't change anything at all. Not to Robert.

And who knew about Maryse? Was she like Robert? Would she, too, think that Alec was supposed to  _die_ —

He was pulled from his thoughts by a hand carefully settling down on his shoulder.

"Alexander," Magnus mumbled, his voice still groggy from sleep.

Alec turned his head, allowing a small smile to break on his face. "Morning," he said quietly. "I'm—"

"Don't," Magnus cut him off. "Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I shouldn't have bothered you that late," Alec argued. "I just thought…" What  _had_ he thought? Everything still felt blurry – he'd simply wanted to see a familiar face, had wanted to feel like someone could take him as he was, like someone accepted him.

Magnus gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, before standing up. "Like I said," he started, "nothing to apologize for."

He disappeared into his bedroom, reappearing a few minutes later with a new set of clothes on. His hair looked rumpled, and his face was bare of any make-up, yet Alec thought he would gladly wake up to this more often, under different circumstances.

Magnus sniffled, dragging his fingers through his hair. A few adamant strands dropped back against his forehead. "How about some breakfast?" He asked, glancing at Alec.

Alec realized he hadn't had anything to eat since the previous day's lunch. "That'd be great," he said. "Can I—should I help?"

Magnus waved his hand, walking off into the kitchen. "No," he said as Alec followed and sat down by the kitchen table. "Don't worry about it."

They remained in a comfortable silence as Magnus made some toast and coffee. He set Alec's plate and cup down before sitting opposite to him.

Coffee had never tasted as good before.

"Thank you," Alec mumbled into his cup. He glanced at Magnus from under his brows. "Really, I—for everything."

Magnus smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's nothing," he said. "You were clearly not alright. I'm glad to have been able to help, if only a little."

"You helped more than you probably think," Alec replied. "I needed…" He hesitated, licking his lips. "I needed just that."

Magnus hummed. "Well. I'm glad, then." He paused, eyeing Alec. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alec shrugged. The cup felt burning hot against his fingertips, but he ignored it. "What's there to talk about? I mean, my dad… I knew. I knew, every time he made us say grace, and every time he sneered at the television, and every time he read the papers. I knew what he thought. But he'd never  _said_ it, before, not like—not like that." He scoffed. "He asked if you're a cross-dresser," Alec added, shaking his head slightly.

He hadn't expected for Magnus to laugh, but the sound warmed Alec more than the coffee did. "Of course he did," Magnus chuckled. "Of course. Just because I wear make-up…"

"Yeah," Alec agreed. "I told him you weren't, but that it wouldn't matter, anyways – he said something along the lines of 'not everything needs to be accepted.'" Robert's expression danced in the surface of his cup – Alec stirred the coffee, and looked up. "Said that AIDS is a 'warning from God.'"

Magnus didn't roll his eyes, but looked like he wanted to. "I'm sure to people like him everything that goes against his personal beliefs is a warning from higher powers," he drawled. "As if any benign deity would want nothing but love for their people."

Alec hummed, sipping his coffee. "Are you religious?" He asked. "Not that it'd be a bad thing, just… just wondering."

Magnus looked considerate for a minute, frowning slightly. "I don't know," he eventually started. "I suppose on some level I do think that there is something out there – but I don't think it's a single, omnipotent man. Nor do I think I owe it to anyone to act or think a certain way, or that my morals should be dictated by a dusty old book." He smirked. "I think it's funny, these people like your father, who hide behind some else's words without even doing the slightest bit of research or critical thinking."

Alec made a noise of agreement. "I don't think anyone in my family bases much importance on the Bible, safe for Robert. And, my mother."

"Do you know what she thinks of… us?" Magnus asked, carefully.

Alec shrugged once more. "She's always gone along with what my father does or says. I think she's lost herself, a little. And I don't really know how to help her, you know? I think…" He paused. "Being a good son is difficult. And mothers are strange."

"Mine died when I was young."

Alec looked up at Magnus, who stared back, a hint of a sad smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry," Alec said. "I didn't mean to—"

Magnus raised a hand. "I know," he assured him. "You didn't know. Now you do. It's in the past."

"You say that a lot," Alec noted. "It might be in the past – doesn't mean it doesn't affect the present. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here."

"Thank you," Magnus smiled. "One day, perhaps."

A silence descended between them once more. Alec finished his toast and coffee, and set the plate and cup in the sink. He turned back to Magnus, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Maybe I should—"

Before he could finish the sentence, however, Magnus' front door slammed open. Alec's eyes snapped to the direction of the front hall; Magnus merely let out a weary sigh, without turning around.

A man was standing by the door, his eyes closed as he pressed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He was wearing what seemed to be a tailor-made suit that had been through the bender – the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the hems torn, and the entire jacket was covered in dirt. There was a hole in his pants around his right knee, revealing a patch of bloodied skin. He had a black eye, and the rolled up sleeves showed off scratches and wounds. His lip was bleeding.

The man remained in place for a few seconds, before letting out a loud sigh. Then he shut the door, gently this time, before turning towards the kitchen.

His eyebrows shot up as his eyes fell on Alec.

"Well," he said dryly. "This is new."

Magnus gave Alec a pained look before turning in his seat. "Raphael, I swear to—" he stopped abruptly as he took in the man's appearances. "What the hell happened to you?" He asked, but this time his voice was lined with concern.

The man – Raphael – shrugged. "Got jumped," he said as a way of explanation. "It's not a big deal."

Alec heard Magnus scoff in disbelief. "You've never been good at lying to me, don't presume to start now," he said. He sighed again. "Let's clean those cuts."

Raphael rolled his eyes, but ventured off into the living room regardless, flopping down on the couch.

Magnus turned back to Alec, looking apologetic. "Raphael's an old friend," he explained.

Alec nodded slowly. "Do you, uh, need any help?"

Magnus smiled.

A few minutes later Alec found himself sitting beside Raphael on the couch as Magnus rummaged through the bathroom for a first-aid kit, the words  _keep him from fainting_ ringing in his head.

"So," Raphael started. He glanced at Alec from the corner of his eye. "Who are you?"

"Alec," Alec said. Unsure of what to do, he added, "Lightwood."

He received a scoff as a response. "You related to Jace, by any chance?"

Alec frowned. "He's my brother," he confirmed, sounding suspicious. "Why, you know him?"

Raphael attempted to shrug, but it seemed the action only proved to be hurtful – he winced, and then attempted to cover it up by shifting in his seat and crossing his legs. "I know  _of_ him," he said. "He used to run with some, let's say... _less_ than respectable people."

"Used to?" Alec asked.

"From what I hear, he keeps to himself these days," Raphael said. "Word is he's dating Helen Blackthorn – which I find interesting, considering."

"Considering what?"

Raphael shot Alec a knowing smile. "Clever people shouldn't play dumb."

"You should take your own advice," Magnus said, emerging from the bathroom.

Alec saw Raphael roll his eyes. "I don't play dumb," he argued.

Magnus said,  _uh-huh_. "Of course you don't. Especially when you pretend nothing is wrong when clearly you should go to an ER."

"You know I can't do that," Raphael replied.

Magnus gave him a fleeting look of understanding and sympathy. "I know," he agreed. "Still – you're lucky I'm friends with Catarina."

"Yes," Raphael drawled. "I'm so glad that I'm receiving medical attention from a man who's friends with a nurse-in-training."

"You're the one who slammed my door open," Magnus reminded him. "Strip," he added.

"I prefer a man buy me dinner first, and even then I'd rather not," Raphael said, but he removed his jacket, revealing a black T-shirt underneath.

Magnus mumbled something under his breath, before kneeling down in front of Raphael on the couch. He dipped cotton in some sort of an antiseptic liquid, then carefully wiped at the scratches on Raphael's arms.

He hissed in pain, but didn't move a muscle. Alec had to wonder if he was used to this, if this was something of a common occurrence.

"You said you got jumped," he started, eyeing Raphael who turned his head slightly to stare back at. "Why?"

Raphael said nothing for a while. He glanced back at Magnus, who was frowning at a deeper wound with concern, seemingly pondering whether stitches were needed or not.

"Who are you?" He finally asked again.

Alec frowned. "I told you," he said. "I'm—"

"No," Raphael interrupted. "I mean, to Magnus. Who are you to him."

Magnus didn't look up, but a corner of his mouth twitched. "You can trust Alexander," he said quietly. "We're together."

Raphael didn't look too surprised by the admission. He merely raised one brow at Alec, then hummed, turning back to look at Magnus. "I see," he said. "You didn't think it was worth mentioning before this?"

Magnus shrugged. "You're a gossip," he said.

"Am not," Raphael argued, then winced. "Ow, what the hell—"

"I think this needs stitches," Magnus commented. "You should've gone to the ER."

"Yeah," Raphael said, "and told them, what? That I was out with a guy and had the _audacity_ to hold his hand for a split second, only to end up like this? I'm sure they would've been ecstatic to take care of me."

No one said anything for a while.

"Who were you with?" Alec asked finally, breaking the silence.

Raphael shot him an irritated look. "Does it matter? You know, this feels oddly like an interrogation—"

Magnus sighed exasperatedly. "Raphael," he mumbled. "Don't. Not to him."

Raphael snapped his mouth shut, eyeing Magnus. "Really?" He asked in an odd tone.

"Really," Magnus confirmed.

Alec frowned, unsure of the apparent silent agreement the two of them seemed to have reached. Raphael bristled, and then relaxed against the couch, letting some of the tension slip from his body.

"Simon," he muttered, his eyes closed. "I was with this guy, Simon."

"Lewis?" Alec asked.

Raphael nodded without opening his eyes. "That one. You know him?"

"I know  _of_  him."

Raphael almost grinned. "Right. Should I even bother asking how?"

"My sister. I think Simon's a friend of a friend. She thought he was seeing someone else, though."

"I'd assume a lot of people do," Raphael said. "It isn't as if we can make a spectacle out of it. You would know."

Alec said nothing.

Magnus continued patching Raphael up for some time. After what Alec thought must've been about half an hour, Magnus stood up with a sigh. He dusted his pants. "Well, you should be out of the danger zone," he told Raphael. "For now." He eyed the other man for a while, frowning. "Go take a nap. You look like you haven't slept in a week."

Raphael opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Magnus simply lifted a brow. "A nap," he repeated. "And when you wake up, we're continuing this conversation."

After Raphael had disappeared into the guest bedroom, the door falling shut behind him, Magnus sank down next to Alec with a sigh.

"He pretends to be invincible," Magnus said quietly. "But he's not. I'm afraid that one day, I'll open the door and he won't be there anymore."

Alec reached for Magnus' hand, lacing their fingers together. "He seems like he can look after himself. I'm sure he'll be alright."

Magnus huffed. "One can hope," he said. "But he's never been the poster boy for self-care. Still, I think having people around him that care is doing something positive."

They sat in silence for a while. Alec looked at the clock – it was around half past ten.

"I should probably head home," he started. "Before my mom calls the cops after me."

"Probably for the best," Magnus agreed. He eyed Alec with worry, their fingers still intertwined. "Are you going to be alright?"

Alec shrugged. "I think so. I mean, nothing's changed, not really – things are just slightly different. I'll just continue to stay out of my dad's way and not think about it too much."

"Well. Call me, if you ever need to. Or come over."

Alec agreed, and Magnus walked him to the door. He frowned at Alec's T-shirt.

"I'll borrow you a jacket," he said in a way that left no room for arguments.

A few minutes later, Alec was wrapped in a dark blue wool trench coat. The shoulders were slightly too broad, but otherwise, it might as well have been Alec's own.

"Thank you," he smiled at Magnus from the doorway. "Good luck with…" He thrust his chin towards the other bedroom.

Magnus huffed. "Yeah," he said. "Let's just hope no one comes knocking after him." At Alec's worried look, he waved his hand in dismissal. "I can deal with that, should it come to it. Wouldn't be the first time I've had a gang stand in front of my door, looking for someone."

Alec frowned. "Does that happen often?"

"From time to time," Magnus smiled. "I try to let my apartment be a safe house for people who might need it. If the cost of keeping someone alive is to call the cops once a week, I'll do it."

"Right," Alec said. "That's—very kind of you."

"Basic human decency," Magnus shrugged. "I do what I can."

There was a sudden crash from the bedroom currently occupied by Raphael, and Magnus closed his eyes, sighing. "For the love of—"

"I'll go," Alec said, giving a small laugh. "Take care of him, yeah?"

Magnus promised he would, and closed the door. Alec stared at the apartment number for a few seconds, before turning around towards the stairs.

The walk back to his house seemed to last longer than it had the night before – but Alec figured his perception of time hadn't been the best, then. By the time he reached their front yard, his heart was stammering in his chest. But the house seemed quiet, and Robert's car was gone. Alec breathed a sigh of relief, walking up the pathway to the front door.

He unlocked it and stepped inside, only to immediately freeze in his place as he looked up.

Maryse was sitting on the living room couch, her hands crossed over her chest. She was staring at Alec darkly – her hair was in disarray, and she looked as if she'd been crying.

"Mom," Alec said quietly. "What's—what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Maryse's voice trembled slightly. "What's  _wrong_? Alexander, you disappeared in the middle of the night!" Her voice climbed up towards the end, sounding hoarse.

Alec's stomach dropped. He took a step closer, the keys still dangling from his fingers. "Oh," he said. "I'm—"

"You left no note," she continued. "No note, no word. You didn't call—Alec, I thought…" She cut herself off, her lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head, and sniffled. "I thought you'd run off or… or done something stupid to yourself."

Alec half walked, half ran the rest of the way, sitting down on the couch beside her. "Hey," he breathed out, "It's—it's fine, I'm here."

He wrapped his arm around Maryse's shoulders and she slouched against him, shaking.

"Why would you do that?" She asked. "What happened?"

Alec stared at the floor, his fingers gently curling around Maryse's upper arm. She couldn't know. She  _shouldn't_ know. She'd be the same as Robert – she'd side with him, like she always did, like she always had, and Alec would end up on the streets—

"Our mutual friend had an emergency," a voice piped up from the doorway.

Alec glanced up to see Jace there, hands in his pockets. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his cheek looked like someone had punched him. Alec frowned.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "It was, uh, Helen. Helen had a thing, with the…"

"She was out with me and broke her ankle," Jace supplied. "And I felt so guilty I asked Alec for help. He helped take her to her apartment. I just came back from there."

Alec had to wonder how many times Jace had lied to him like this – his words came out smoothly, with no awkward pauses or moments of hesitation.

Maryse untangled herself from Alec's hold and glanced between the two of them, frowning. "You could have called," he said. "You should have. I was  _worried_ —"

"I know, mom," Alec hurried to say. "I know, and I'm sorry. It was a—a spur of the moment thing. I mean, I had to borrow Helen's brother's coat because I forgot to take mine."

Maryse looked at the wool trench coat, one brow raised. "Helen's brother's?" She asked. "He dresses like that?"

"Yeah," Alec replied. His face felt warm. "He does."

She eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds. Alec could feel his heart beating, and his skin tingled. Then her face smoothed out. She glanced at Jace, then at Alec, and sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Well, then. I'm glad that you took care of your friend. But for the love of God, leave a note, next time."

"Of course," Jace promised from where he was standing. "We're sorry."

Maryse waved her hand. "It's fine. I know I can't worry too much – you're both adults, already. Just—" She took a shuddering breath. "Be careful, out there. That's all."

Alec stood up, hesitantly walking towards Jace with his back turned to him, still facing Maryse. "Are you—can I go take a shower, now?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Maryse said with a strained smile. "Don't worry. I'll go to the store and stop by the library – I'll see you two later."

Alec nodded slowly. He made sure to walk the steps upstairs at a normal pace; the fifth stair before the floor creaked. Jace was right behind him, and when Alec made for his own room, Jace followed in tow, closing the door behind him.

The bed creaked as Alec fell on it, staring up at the roof. Jace sat by the foot of his bed, watching him in silence.

Downstairs, the front door slammed shut after Maryse.

"So," Alec started after a small while. "Thank you, I guess."

Jace shrugged. "You've always had my back," he said. "It's no big deal."

"It is," Alec insisted. "You didn't have to do that." He paused, frowning. "Where did you come from, anyway?"

"Around," Jace replied vaguely. "Looks like you weren't the only one spending the night elsewhere," he continued in a tone that implied that Alec owned him some sort of an explanation, at the very least.

Alec let out a sigh. Jace deserved to know. And what did he have to lose, anymore? His own father thought he was better off dead. What was it to him, if Jace thought so too? He'd still have Izzy; and it would hurt to lose Jace, but Alec could learn to live with it, eventually.

"Do you… do you still hang out with Jonathan, and those people?" He asked, glancing at Jace.

Jace frowned. "What?" He asked, looking affronted. "No, what the hell, Alec? I haven't so much as seen those losers in months. They're… they're not good people. I don't want to be a part of that shit anymore."

" _I_ know that they're not good people," Alec said, dryly, but his lips twitched into a small smile. "I just thought that you didn't."

"Well, I do. They were assholes." Jace bit his lip. "I mostly hang with Helen, now. And sometimes Aline comes along. It's nice. They're nice."

Alec huffed, smiling. Jace deserved good people in his life – especially after the last few years. "They are," he agreed. "They deserve better than hiding all the time."

"Yeah," Jace said, absentmindedly. He looked at Alec, one brow lifted. "You're deflecting, aren't you? Where were you?" He hesitated for a second. "I mean, you don't  _have_ to tell me, but it'd be nice to know. We haven't really talked, lately."

Jace was right. They'd grown apart, without really realizing it. "I…" Alec took a deep breath. "I was…" He closed his eyes. "It's Robert."

"Robert?"

Alec nodded. "He, uhm. I went out with him, yesterday. And—and he was…" Alec swallowed nervously. His stomach was churning. His chest felt tight. "He said some shitty things."

"About?" Jace prompted softly.

Alec opened his eyes. "How AIDS is a warning from God," he said, slowly. "How w—they deserve to die."

Jace's entire body tensed up; the bed creaked underneath him. "What?" He asked, and his voice had gone cold. "He said that?"

Their eyes met. Alec tried to keep his expression neutral – he had a feeling he wasn't quite succeeding. "Yeah," he croaked out. "He did."

"That's fucking disgusting," Jace hissed. "Who does he think he is?"

"Yeah," Alec agreed weakly. "I know. Trust me, I do."

There was a silence. Alec felt his heart thud against his chest.

Jace frowned. "Wait," he started. "You left because of that? Does that mean—I mean, are you…?" He gestured vaguely towards Alec. "You know?"

He looked so absurdly clueless that Alec felt himself break into laughter; it was like his body was a hundred miles away from his mind. Jace looked at him helplessly, his brows tilted at an awkward angle.

"Are you asking me if I'm gay?" Alec asked, smiling. "Because if so, yes. I am."

"Oh," Jace said. "Oh. Okay." He smiled back at Alec, his eyes crinkling. Then, suddenly, his face fell. "Fuck. All that shit that Robert said, and has been saying in the past, and my old friends—"

"I know," Alec cut in. "It's…" He didn't know how to continue. It wasn't Jace's fault, and he couldn't explain what it felt like, to hear the things people said about him. He cleared his throat. "Doesn't matter. But yeah, he said those things. And I couldn't be in the same house as him, I just—I couldn't. So, I went to… someone else."

Jace looked at him with worry. "Someone else?"

Alec chuckled. "No need to look like that," he assured him. "He's… we're together."

Jace leaned closer, gasping. " _Wait_ ," he said, "you're actually seeing someone?"

Alec rolled his eyes. "And you called me and Izzy gossip hens. But yes, I am. His name's Magnus."

"That's a cool name," Jace huffed. "So, I guess that's who you got the coat from?"

"Yeah."

"Well, at least he has a sense of fashion."

Alec snorted. "You know, this is much more anti-climactic than I thought. I figured there'd be at least some shouting."

Jace rolled his eyes. "You  _know_  I'm fine with this. You're still my big brother, nerd. Now you're just my gay big brother."

"Gee, thanks. I've always wanted an upgrade in my title."

Jace smiled. Alec felt lighter.

The silence that stretched wasn't uncomfortable.

Jace straightened his leg, knocking their knees against each other.

"It's alright," Jace muttered, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. "We're alright."

"Yeah," Alec agreed, looking at the ceiling. "We are."


	8. when doves cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh sorry for the prolonged update. school started again and mental health stuff came knock knock knocking on my door. 25% of this written with a headache, another 25% whilst tipsy and the remaining 50%..... who knows
> 
> **heads up warning** for extreme homophobic language, robert's general awfulness and family drama
> 
> song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **Matia Bazar** \- Ti Sento  
>  **Evelyn "Champagne" King** \- Love Come Down  
>  **Modern Talking** \- Just Like An Angel  
>  **The Nolans** \- Attention To Me  
>  **Johnny Hates Jazz** \- Shattered Dreams  
>  **Camouflage** \- Love Is a Shield  
>  **Prince** \- When Doves Cry

"It's Friday," Izzy said as she pushed herself into Alec's room.

Alec glanced up from the sketchpad on his lap. He was holding a pen awkwardly in his fingers, the tip tilted at an odd angle. On the paper, there was a crude attempt at a drawing – Alec thought it barely resembled a person, much less Magnus.

"Yeah, so?" He asked, closing the sketchpad. Practice made perfect. He'd settle for decent; he wanted to give something to Magnus in return for the Neil Tennant portrait, still taped to the side of his desk. He knew he didn't  _have_ to, but he didn't like feeling as though Magnus was the only one constantly giving him gifts or things to borrow, when Alec himself had nothing to offer. It wasn't logical; and yet, here he was.

Izzy didn't bother sitting down. " _So_ , I'm going out with Clary. And you and Jace are coming along."

"We are?" Alec asked, arching a brow.

"You are," Izzy confirmed, smiling. "And, guess what?"

"What?" Alec asked dryly.

"You're going to call Magnus, and we're going to meet him," Izzy stated. Then her smile faltered. "Unless you're not ready. Which is fine. I mean, I can wait some more until meeting him, if you feel like it's not time for that yet. Your call."

Alec huffed in amusement. "It's fine. I think it's high time we all get together."

Izzy's smile was blinding. "Perfect. I'll go let Jace know—"

"No need," Jace's voice carried from the hallway. Seconds later he entered the room, looking sheepish. "I, um, heard you two talking. I should've just come in, but I thought… I don't know." He shuffled on his feet by the doorway. "We haven't really— _I_ haven't been talking to you two. And I… I mean, it's just the three of us, right? We gotta stick together. And lately we haven't. And I'd—I'd like to change that. I mean, shit, I didn't even know Alec had a boyfriend until the day before yesterday. Or that Izzy was crushing on—"

Izzy turned to look at Jace, sharply. "I'm not crushing on anyone," she argued. "And whatever it is you think you heard, it's bullshit."

Jace raised a sceptical brow. "Oh, is it?"

Alec glanced at Izzy, who was blushing slightly. "Is it the Simon guy?" He asked, sounding unsure even to his own ears.

She let out a sigh, and flopped down on Alec's chair, crossing her arms defensively. " _No_ ," she said pointedly, "it's not Simon."

"Oh, good," Alec breathed out before he could stop. At Jace and Izzy's questioning looks, he spread his arms. "I heard he's taken, that's all. I'm glad you're not entangled in that sort of a mess."

Jace frowned. "Taken? By who? Clary?"

Isabelle's eyes opened wide. "You know Clary?"

Jace shrugged. "'Course I know her. I think everyone knows her, now that her mom's in coma and she's practically living at the police station. I met her a few times through Helen." He paused, eyeing Izzy in a knowing way. "Seems sweet."

Izzy smiled down at the ground, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "She is," she agreed. "She's very sweet."

Alec watched her continue to talk about Clary, her toes curling and her fingers twisting nervously—and then the puzzle pieces clicked inside Alec's head at once, and he felt stupid for not having seen it before, when it was as clear as a day.  _It's been a bit weird, with Clary—not jealous, but—Simon—_

"You like Clary," Alec blurted out, interrupting Jace's sentence. He turned to look at Alec, brows raised.

"No, I don't," he protested.

"Not you," Alec said, waving his hand. "I meant…" The sentence drifted off as they both turned to look at Izzy, whose face was miraculously stuck halfway between a frown and a grin.

"Took you long enough," she drawled. "Although admittedly, I wasn't exactly catching on, either."

Jace smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way Alec hadn't seen in years, and he felt a pang in his chest at the memory of a younger Jace, laughing without reservations and without reason, the sound filling the corners of his mind. It was joined by Izzy's giggling, high-pitched and free, and Alec laughing along, the three of them still happy in their oblivious youth.

Alec shook his head slightly to banish the memory.

"I knew it," Jace said in triumph.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Let's not make this into a thing, alright? I sort of like her. That's it. It's not a big deal, and nothing will ever come of it, because I'm sure she's never thought of me as anything but a friend."

"Oh, come on," Jace snorted. "If  _you_ can't make her fall in love with you, then no one can."

Izzy muttered something under her breath, which might've been,  _don't be ridiculous_.

Alec was about to open his mouth to say something, when Jace began snapping his fingers in excitement.

"Hang on," he said. "If Simon isn't taken by Clary, then who?"

Alec felt the invisible spotlight fall on him as both of his siblings turned to him, their eyes awaiting and the question hanging in the air between them.

"Uh," he started. "I don't know if it's my place—"

"Alec," Jace said gravely. "Trust me, I know every source of gossip in this neighbourhood. I will find out."

Alec raised a brow. "That's a bit worrying," he said.

Jace shrugged. "Nothing goes past me."

"My relationship did," Alec reminded him with a smile.

"Listen, I'd love to get to the club soon, so if we could get a name and then leave…" Izzy cut in, already standing up.

Alec rolled his eyes. "He's seeing a guy Magnus knows," he admitted. "That's all I'm saying."

Jace eyed him suspiciously. "I will find out," he vowed, pointing a finger at Alec.

"I'm sure you will," Izzy said, a tinge of desperation in her voice, "but can we please  _go_ , now?"

Half an hour later, they were walking together towards  _The Indigo Devil_ , with Izzy and Clary walking ahead with their arms linked and Jace and Alec trailing behind, hands stuffed in their pockets.

"So," Jace started as they passed a group of drunk men incoherently yelling at them. "How badly do you estimate things will go wrong tonight?"

Alec thought about it. He'd called Magnus to meet them at the club, and had warned him that his siblings were extravagant on good days and unbearable on bad; that he, himself, wasn't sure how to navigate the waters of attempting to intertwine two parts of his life seamlessly into one; that he didn't know what he was doing, that he didn't know how the many variables would mix.

And Magnus had said that everything would be fine. And Alec had believed him.

"I think it'll be alright," Alec told Jace. "At least, if we keep Izzy off the liquor."

Jace threw his head back in laughter, and Alec smiled. He'd missed this – the easy companionship his siblings brought into his life, the familiarity and the joy and the sense of belonging he'd lost somewhere on the way, now being reintroduced by Magnus and Isabelle and Jace. He'd missed it, and now everything was coming back around, and while Alec felt as though he was tangling on a tightrope, at least he had a safety net underneath.

They reached the club only to find Magnus waiting for them outside. He was leaning against the wall, his hair done up and his turquoise shirt shimmering underneath a black coat. Alec noticed the lack of painted nails, and the slight sliver of nervousness in his eyes as he turned to greet them – but it seemed to melt as Alec pushed through Izzy and Clary to stand next to him, intertwining their fingers in an effortless way.

Magnus' skin felt warm and familiar, and Alec couldn't help but lean against him.

"So, this is Magnus," he introduced, grinning. He felt giddy – the anxiety he'd expected was nowhere to be found, and instead, he was staring into the equally excited and happy faces of his siblings.

"Evening," Magnus said pleasantly. "Magnus Bane. Glad to meet you."

Izzy stepped up, grinning from ear to ear. She looked mildly surprised. "I remember you," she said, eyeing Magnus up and down. "From the first time I dragged Alec to the  _Devil_. You two were outside, talking."

Alec frowned. "How can you remember that? You were drunk."

"Because not all of us are inexperienced lightweights," she said lightly. Then she tried to shake Magnus' hand, only to notice it being held by Alec, and instead leaned closer to peck him on the cheek. "It's a pleasure," she said as she retreated. "Really, from everything that Alec's told… Thank you."

Magnus smiled back at her, freely and brightly. "Pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Especially if I can get embarrassing childhood stories later."

Alec untangled their fingers and smacked him lightly on the arm. "Absolutely not," he said, but he was laughing.

"I've got plenty of embarrassing childhood stories," Jace piped up, stepping next to Izzy. He looked slightly awkward, but no more so than usual. "All I ask in return is you take good care of my brother."

Magnus shook his hand, nodding. "I'll be glad to," he said, and if he sounded slightly more serious than Jace had expected, Jace didn't show it – instead, he smiled.

"Good," he replied. "Well, now that that's—"

"Oh," Magnus said suddenly, his eyes falling on Clary who was standing behind Izzy, drawing strange shapes on the back of her hand. She looked up, and gave him a confused, polite smile.

"Hey," she said. "I'm Clary."

"I know," Magnus said, and Clary's eyebrows shot up. "You're friends with Simon."

Her confusion turned into curiosity. "I am," she confirmed. "Do you know him?"

"He knows  _of_  him," Alec mumbled quietly, and Magnus elbowed him with a smile.

"Stop being bitter over Raphael," he said. "He's like that with everyone."

Clary stepped closer, tilting her head in a way eerily similar to Izzy. "Raphael? As in, Santiago?"

"Yes," Magnus confirmed. "As in, Santiago. Simon's been around a few times."

"Oh." Clary smiled. "You're the friend Raphael's been talking about. The one with the nice apartment."

Alec saw Magnus roll his eyes fondly. "I told him he's a gossip," he sighed. "And yet he tries to argue."

Clary gave a startled laugh, and Alec noticed the way Izzy turned to look at her, eyes trailing over her red lips. He smiled, and averted his eyes.

"He  _is_ such a gossip," Clary agreed cheerfully. "I don't know why he bothers trying to hide it, we all know."

Jace intervened before the two of them could continue their conversation, gesturing towards the entrance of the club. "How about we go in, now? I haven't been out in ages, I need a drink."

They all mumbled their agreements and piled in, swallowed up by the crowd and the blasting music. Alec found himself by the same corner where he'd first talked to Magnus, leaning his elbows against the counter with a blissful smile on his face.

Magnus settled next to him, their shoulders pressed together. He ordered them drinks, and Alec was lulled into a comfortable silence, surrounded by the music and the vague movements of the crowd around them, and the presence of Magnus beside him, safe and sound.

He spotted Izzy and Clary dancing in the middle of the dancefloor, seemingly not bothered by the attention they were garnering, as what Alec thought might've been  _Modern Talking_ played in the background. They were close, an inch apart at most, and as Alec watched, he saw Clary glance at Izzy with the same adoring and loving look he'd seen before in Izzy's eyes – and he smiled into his drink.

Jace was off on the other side of the counter, frowning into his beer. He looked alone, but intentionally so – like he was trying to appear as someone who needed no company. It seemed he wasn't fooling everyone: Alec saw a girl sidle up next to him and sip from his beer with a grin. Jace raised a brow at her, and then signalled the bartender for another drink.

Alec turned to look at Magnus with a small, fond smile – only to find it mirrored on Magnus' face as well. They both raised their drinks in a mock solute.

"To us," Alec mouthed, doubtful that he could make his own voice heard inside the loud club.

"To us," Magnus echoed. Their glasses clinked against each other.

The rest of the night went by with Alec and Magnus sticking to a few drinks, Jace challenging the girl he'd met into a drinking contest and Izzy and Clary doing various shots accompanied by cocktails. Alec felt comfortable, pressed against Magnus without trying to look too obvious, sneaking glances and inconspicuous kisses to his jaw where he could.

Alec thought, with a sudden jolt, that this was what he'd always wanted to have. His siblings, here, together with him and as happy as could be expected. Him, with someone he cared about, with someone he  _wanted_ to be with, with someone who got along with his family. Everything was  _good_.

Alec could, at some point, move out of the house. Move in with Magnus, or move into the neighbourhood, or whatever seemed like the best option. He'd get a job, a real job, and he'd live the life he'd always wanted to live, but had never thought he could.

And he'd continue being happy.

His throat felt tight, and his eyes felt watery, and his skin felt hot – but he was happy.

They left around midnight, stumbling out into the street, some of them with more dignity than others.

Izzy was taking support from Clary by hanging off her shoulders, leaning against her side, and Clary had wrapped her other hand around Izzy's waist. "She's walking me home," Izzy grinned, her head lulling against Clary's shoulder. "She's sweet like that."

Clary gave Alec a fleeting smile. "We'll go ahead," she said. "I'll get her to your front door safe and sound."

Alec nodded, and watched as the duo disappeared down the street. He heard indistinct yelling, and giggling, and then they were too far to hear anymore. He trusted Clary enough to know that they'd get back; but he wasn't sure that he should've trusted Izzy alone with her, if keeping her feelings a secret was what she wanted.

He supposed it was too late now, either way. Alec lazily linked his arm with Magnus.

Jace took one look at them, and then huffed, smiling. "I'll go ahead too, make sure they actually do get home," he said, and Alec wondered how much of it was an excuse and how much an explanation. "It was nice meeting you, Magnus."

"Likewise," Magnus said. "We should get everyone together at some point under, perhaps, _quieter_ circumstances."

Jace hummed in agreement. "Sounds good. Let me know when." He blinked slowly, twice, and then chuckled. "That wasn't a nod, was it? Shit. I'll see you when you get home, Alec."

He swayed only a little as he left, so Alec let him go alone.

He turned back to Magnus, taking a deep breath. "Well. That was my family, then."

Magnus chuckled. "I'd say that they were quite a bit more pleasant than your father was for those few minutes I saw him."

Alec couldn't quite smile, but he tried to, anyway. "They're great. They really just—they don't care about what I am or who I am. To them, I'm just Alec."

Magnus leaned closer to kiss him, soft, and slow, and when he pulled away, Alec felt his chest ache for a brief second.

"I'm glad," Magnus said quietly. "I rather like  _just Alec_."

Alec grinned at him. "Well, then I suppose it's a good thing that just Alec rather likes you, as well."

"I'd say it's phenomenally good," Magnus agreed.

They stared at each other for a while, smiling like two complete idiots – and Alec supposed that they were.

"I should go," Alec finally said. "To make sure they don't manage to die somewhere along the way."

Magnus laughed, taking a few steps back. "Go home, Alexander," he smiled. "Call me later."

"I will," Alec promised. "I'll see you soon."

He turned before he could be pulled into following Magnus to his apartment by something stupid, like the way Magnus' eyes shimmered in the dim light of the club, or the way his shirt complimented his skin, or the way his jacket brought out his physique – so Alec pointedly thought about none of these things, and instead walked back home, hands stuffed into his pockets and a ridiculous smile on his face.

When Alec reached their house, he stopped dead in his tracks, stuttering to a halt by their mailbox.

The downstairs lights were turned on.

The downstairs lights were never turned on this late – never. He thought he could spy someone through the curtains that were drawn across the living room window, but it was hard to tell. The kitchen window was clear – Alec could see no one there.

He walked up to their front door, suddenly nervous.

The living room lights were all turned on, but the TV was off. As Alec stepped into the room, the hushed whispers ceased, and all eyes turned to look at him.

Izzy was sitting on the armchair closest to the door, angled in a way that allowed Alec to only see half of her face – but it was enough to know that something was wrong. She was crying, hysterically, and she kept hiccupping – as soon as she noticed Alec coming in, she turned in her chair to look at him.

"Alec," she choked, looking at him in a desperate way. "I'm so sorry, I'm—" she stopped, pressing her head in her hands. She was shaking. Alec moved to place his hand on her shoulder, when Robert's voice stopped him.

"Sit down," he said – commanded – in a cold, impersonal tone. Alec looked up.

Robert and Maryse were sitting side by side on the couch. Robert looked calculating, angry – Maryse looked as though she'd been crying, carefully keeping some distance to Robert. Her hands were resting on her lap, her fingers crossed in a lousy prayer.

Alec stepped away from where Izzy was, moving slowly. "What's going on?" He asked carefully, his eyes switching back and forth between his parents. "Is everything oka—"

"I said,  _sit down_ ," Robert repeated, louder than before, and Alec stopped his sentence halfway through.

He sat down on the edge of an armchair to Izzy's left, the living room door between the two of them. The room felt tense – one of the table lamps kept flickering slightly, fizzing, and Alec could hear his own heartbeat.

"What's going on?" Alec tried again. His shoulders were drawn up, his back straight. His right foot kept tapping the floor nervously in an irregular pattern.

Robert levelled him with a look. "Alexander," he said, and Alec inwardly flinched. "It's come to my attention—"

"I'm sorry," Izzy interrupted. She was still crying, and she looked at Alec, trembling. "I wasn't supposed to, I promised, but he kept asking, and asking, and I didn't know what to do, Alec, I'm so  _sorry_ —"

"Isabelle, I think you should go," Maryse said softly. "It's alright, you haven't done anything to—"

"No!" Robert raised his voice, and Maryse flinched. "She stays right there. This problem is bigger than her, or Alexander – this is a problem of this entire family. There's something wrong, something very wrong, and no one will leave until it's been  _fixed_."

Alec glanced around the living room. "Where's Jace?"

Robert's eyes narrowed. "He… took it upon himself to deal with the matters as he saw fit," he said through gritted teeth. "Which is what he's always done." He paused, then mumbled under his breath, "Never should've taken him in in the first place."

Alec's blood froze, and he felt his skin crawl. "What?" He asked, sounding incredulous.

Robert locked eyes with him. "You heard me," he said. "I don't think I stuttered."

"What's  _wrong_ with you?" Alec hissed. "Jace is our  _family_ —"

"What's wrong with  _me_?" Robert yelled, abruptly standing up. "You're the bent one in this family!"

Alec felt everything stop for a split second – and then everything moved too fast. He distantly felt himself stand up. "So that's what this is about, then?" Alec asked. "About me being  _queer_?"

" _Yes_ ," Robert replied, seething. "Yes, this is about you being one of those disgusting, perverse—"

"Robert!" Maryse cut in, looking up at him with wide eyes. "That is no way to talk to your own son."

Robert turned to look at her, then back at Alec. "He's no son of mine," Robert said coldly. "Not anymore."

Alec swallowed. "It's not as if you've been around much anyways," he threw back. "Constantly out on your 'work trips' – tell me, dad, what do you do on those work trips? Not anything you couldn't do from your office downtown, yet you keep insisting on going out every single opportunity you get. Do you want to run away from us, is that is?"

Robert was silent for a while, and Alec realized, with sudden horror, that he'd been right.

"You do," he said, dumbfounded. "You do want to leave. Who is she, then?"

Robert opened his mouth, then closed it. "That is not what we're here to—"

"Who is she?" Alec yelled, taking a step closer. "You insist that this family needs to be fixed – maybe you should start with yourself. Who is it, who is it that keeps you from loving your wife, your  _children_?"

Maryse stood up as well, staring at Robert with a mix of disgust and apprehension. "You've been cheating on me?" She asked, her trembling voice quiet after the previous loudness of the room. "Robert?"

Robert closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My affairs are not what we are here to discuss," he said monotonically, hissing the words. "We're here, because our son is a sick faggot—"

"I thought I wasn't your son anymore," Alec said icily. "You've made that much pretty clear." He paused. " _Robert_."

Robert looked at him, and for a brief second, something akin to hurt flashed in his eyes. But the next moment it was gone, replaced by cold fury. He sat back down, and the couch made a loud creak of protest underneath him. "You should be dead," he said into the quiet of the room.

Alec's stomach twisted. "So you've said," he replied. "And each time, I've heard you. How I'm sick, how I deserve to die, how it's wrong and disgusting and how you have no words to express the hatred you have for me." His voice was steady – only his hands were shaking. "I don't care about your opinions. Do what you want with your immoral beliefs – I don't care."

Robert huffed out a bitter laughter. " _I'm_ immoral? You go against God with these choices—"

"He doesn't," Maryse cut in, suddenly. She wasn't looking at Robert, but Alec – her gaze was as steady as her tone. "You don't," she amended, smiling slightly. "Love your neighbour as yourself. And God loves all, doesn't he?"

Robert looked at her, frowning heavily. "It's a sin," he spat. "You know that, Mar."

She shot him a venomous look. "Don't presume to call me that anymore," she said. "Not when you've been sleeping with someone else for God knows how long."

"Oh, and what have you been doing?" He asked. "Your  _book_   _club_?"

"I…" Maryse hesitated for a while. "I've been going to the Metropolitan Community Church meetings."

Alec's body felt immaterial for a second, light and intangible. "You what?" He asked, disbelieving.

She smiled at him. "I had an… inkling. That this might happen sooner or later. And I—I'll admit that at first I wasn't too delighted, but the more I thought about it, I realized that I'd—" She paused, taking a deep breath. "That I'd rather have my child than believe in something that already cost me my brother."

"Uncle Max?" Alec asked, frowning. "But… you said he was married?"

Maryse shook her head. "He is. But not happily so. He told me, when were quite young – and I kept his secret, thinking I could protect him." She looked around the room. "As it seems, history's doomed to repeat itself. But I won't make the same mistakes, Alec. I don't want to. And the church has taught me, that above all, we all deserve love. And you're my son. How could I let something like this stop me from loving you all the same?"

Alec felt his throat close up. "Mom," he whispered. "I didn't—I had no idea…"

"It's alright," she said. She walked up to him slowly, placing her hands on his shoulders. "It's alright."

"No," Robert said. He stood up once more – his hands had curled into fists. "I will not allow someone like that to live under  _my_ roof, not one day longer."

Maryse opened her mouth to say something, and even Izzy looked up, ready to protest, but Alec raised his hands, his palms facing Robert in a sign of surrender.

"It's fine," he said. "I have a place to go, one I'd rather call home than this one. At least while he's here." Alec took a step back towards the front door. "Izzy, ask Clary for an address to…" He hesitated, not wanting Robert to know where he was going. "To the place she said is a nice apartment," he finished, giving her a look.

She nodded, wiping her eyes. "I'll be there tomorrow," she promised. "Alec, I really—"

"Don't worry," he said, softly. "It would've come out sooner or later. I'll—I'll see you tomorrow."

He turned to look at Maryse. "Izzy will know where I am," he told her. "Ask her for an address. I'll be there at least until everything's been sorted out." He paused, glancing between Isabelle and their mother. "I love you both, alright?"

They gave him warm smiles, and Alec turned his back and left, hurrying the last few steps and slamming the door on his way out.

It was Raphael who opened Magnus' door, two hours later. He opened his mouth to say something – but when his eyes fell on Alec, he stopped, and nodded at him to come in.

"Raph, who is…" Magnus appeared from his bedroom, and his sentence drifted off at the sight of Alec, swaying slightly on his feet.

"Robert," Alec mumbled as a way of explanation. He set the empty bottle of whiskey on the kitchen table, and walked to the living room couch, flopping down. "Kicked me out."

Magnus sat down to his left and Raphael to his right, albeit keeping his distance.

As Alec laid his head against Magnus' shoulder, he heard him hum quietly. "This is the second time you appear in the dead of the night on my doorstep because of your father," he mused, sounding, to Alec's ear, understanding, yet upset on his behalf.

"Hopefully 's the las' time," Alec mumbled, closing his eyes. "Can I—is it alright if I stay 'ere?"

And when Magnus said, "Yes, of course," it sounded more like a promise of  _forever_ than  _for now_.


	9. nothing's gonna change my love for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, here we are, at the end of things. it's been a blast writing this fic - and this is the first multi-chapter fic I've actually finished in a looong time. a massive thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting along the way - i very, very much appreciate it!
> 
> for the final time, song recs for this chapter:
>
>> **R.E.M** \- Everybody Hurts  
>  **a-ha** \- Take On Me  
>  **Eagles** \- Peaceful Easy Feeling  
>  **Survivor** \- Didn't Know It Was Love  
>  **The Cure** \- Just Like Heaven  
>  **Belinda Carlisle** \- Heaven Is a Place on Earth  
>  **Stephanie Mills** \- Never Knew Love Like This Before  
>  **Survivor** \- Is This Love  
>  **Glenn Medeiros** \- Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You

Alec woke up in Magnus' bedroom, wrapped up in blankets and with Magnus' wool socks on his feet. He turned around in the bed, blinking blearily at his surroundings. He realized, with a sudden jolt, that he'd never been in this room before.

The curtains had been drawn, but a sliver of light passed through them regardless. The walls were painted bright red, making the room feel warmer than it probably was. Alec sat up, and the dark grey blankets pooled around his lap. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

He stood up and walked out of the bedroom, taking hesitant steps.

Alec found Magnus in the kitchen, making coffee. He turned around at the sound of Alec's footsteps, and smiled, nodding his head towards the living room couch. The cushions gave way as Alec sat down and sank into the backrest, lifting his knees up.

His head hurt, and his eyes felt aching, and if Alec had been a poet, he'd written down something about the pain of being alive. But instead he closed his eyes and buried his head in his knees.

He'd left. He'd done it. Could he still go back for his stuff, once Robert was out on a work trip? Could he ask for someone to bring them to him? And where – to here, to Magnus' apartment? Alec's mind was burning with questions, and most of them revolved around Robert. Would the affair change things? Would  _Alec_ change things? And what of Maryse?

Magnus tapped him lightly on his arm, and Alec lifted his head. He accepted the offered cup of coffee with a weary smile. Magnus sat down next to him and propped his feet on the table in front of them. He seemed to radiate calmness, and Alec felt his mind slow down just a little bit, the burning questions fading away to the background.

"So," Magnus started. "I take it something happened, then?" He sipped his own coffee and glanced at Alec, but not in a demanding way.

Alec turned his head to stare at the wall ahead, sighing. "Something happened," he confirmed. His voice sounded hoarse, and he coughed to clear it. "I came home, and my fa—Robert, he was waiting up, with the rest of my family." Alec paused, sipping his coffee. It burned his tongue slightly. "We argued. He said things that I—that I knew to expect, but didn't want to, you know?"

Magnus hummed. He shifted closer, and Alec let his right arm drop down, his fingers brushing Magnus'.

"You said he kicked you out," Magnus said, not a question but not quite a statement, either.

"Yeah," Alec croaked. He coughed again. "Well, I wasn't going to stick around anyway, but he made it rather clear I wasn't welcome in his house. So, I left."

"I see," Magnus said. "I… My father once also deemed me not welcome under his roof. I know what it feels like. I'm sorry."

Alec attempted a shrug. "That place hasn't felt like a home in a long time," he said, and the unspoken  _this one has_ was left hanging in the air between them.

They finished their coffees in relative silence. The sun began climbing up, basking the living room in a warm light. The rays caught Magnus' face; for a little while, he seemed to be glowing. Alec didn't know how the universe had deemed him so lucky as to treat him to Magnus, who, in the morning light with his hair tousled up and sleep hanging of the edge of his lashes, looked ethereal.

Alec bit his lower lip. "Can I—I mean, I don't really have a place to stay at, right now, so is it…" He drifted off, and Magnus turned to look at Alec.

"Can you stay here?" He finished for him.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Alec hurried to say. "But—"

Magnus hushed him. "Obviously you can stay here," he said, smiling. "I meant what I said, before. My home is always open for those who need it." He paused, and seemed to hesitate. "For you, I can make a special deal of making your stay permanent, if you want to."

Alec blinked at him in silence for a while – then he leaned forward to kiss Magnus, their noses clashing. "I'd love to," he mumbled, and an unprompted grin took over his face. "If you'll have me."

Magnus huffed. "I think I've made my stance clear," he said with amusement.

Suddenly, the guest bedroom door flew open, and Raphael walked out. He spared Alec and Magnus an icy glance before rolling his eyes and wandering over to the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he went.

Magnus shared an amused look with Alec, before collecting their cups and following Raphael. Alec could see them discussing something in low voices – Raphael let out a loud, incredulous  _what_ at one point, before being hushed by Magnus. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about Alec; Raphael kept vaguely gesturing towards him, looking mostly confused, while Magnus kept trying to catch his hands to stop him from outright pointing at Alec.

Eventually, they seemed to reach a conclusion – Raphael huffed, once, and then took two cups of coffee and walked back to the guest bedroom. On his way, he stopped, and shot Alec a weary look. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then changed his mind halfway through. "It'll be alright," he finally said. "It seems like it won't – but it will. One day." Then he disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him before Alec could utter a word of reply.

Magnus appeared from the kitchen, smiling at the closed door with his arms crossed. "Welcome to the family," he joked, but the words made Alec's chest feel warm.

A few days passed with no word from his siblings, and Alec would've been lying if he'd said he wasn't starting to worry. He mostly spent his days pacing around the living room, or reading, or walking outside as much as he dared to – he felt an odd twist in his stomach every time he saw someone who even vaguely resembled Robert. Sometimes he stopped by Magnus' record store, browsing the vinyls while Magnus worked. Sometimes he had conversations with Raphael that mostly left him more confused than before. Sometimes he listened to Simon play the guitar when he stopped by.

It felt as if life was settling on its tracks – if it weren't for the radio silence from his family.

A week passed, and Alec was starting to feel irrationally afraid. What if Robert had done something? What if there had been some kind of an accident? What if, what if, what if—and soon all Alec could think of were  _what ifs_  and  _maybes_.

It was Saturday, a week and a day after he'd left. Alec was curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, trying and failing to finish  _1984_. And then he heard it.

Someone was knocking on the door – three times, with calm pauses and moderate force. Alec didn't have to guess to know who it was. He set the book down on the coffee table and moved towards the direction of the door when a hand fell on his forearm to stop him halfway through.

Alec looked to his right, only to come face to face with Raphael's mildly concerned eyes. He looked as though he'd been standing by Alec's side for a longer time, yet Alec knew for a fact he'd only just been in the guest bedroom, sleeping. His hair looked impeccable, even at eight in the morning, and his clothes looked too uncomfortable to be nightwear – Alec wondered whether Raphael had slept at all.

"Sometimes, people come in here looking for trouble," Raphael warned him in a low voice. He was eyeing Alec in a meaningful way.

Alec frowned, and shook his hand free. "I know. Magnus told me that he gets… unwanted visitors."

Raphael took a step back and crossed his arms. "You don't understand. I don't mean—"

The knocking continued, and this time, a faint voice called out Alec's name through the door. Both he and Raphael turned to look at it, and when Raphael made no further moves to stop him, Alec walked over to open the door.

He peeked out in to the hallway, before fully pulling the door open.

Izzy's face broke into a smile at the sight of him, and before Alec could say a word, she had wrapped him in a tight hug, her hands going around his neck. Alec felt his eyes fall shut as he hugged her back, both of them stumbling into the apartment.

Alec took a step back, still holding on to Izzy. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days – there were dark circles underneath her slightly bloodshot eyes, and her hair was in a disarray. Alec felt his stomach drop as he inspected her closer, noticing the pure exhaustion seeping from her.

"What—" Alec started, and then changed his mind. "Let's go sit down."

He walked Izzy over to the couch and wrapped a blanket around her. He turned around to go and close the front door, only to see Raphael slip out and lock the door behind him. He stared at the door for a second, and then sat down next to Izzy, their arms pressed together.

"I'm so happy to see you," Izzy breathed out, resting her head against Alec's shoulder. "I was going to come over sooner, but there was… a lot of stuff happened, after you left."

"I should've stopped by," Alec said, shaking his head slightly. "I shouldn't have left you all hanging like that."

"No, it's good you didn't come back. Dad was—Robert was  _furious_ after you left. I went upstairs but I heard him and mom arguing until the early morning. She was mad about the affair – well, obviously," Izzy scoffed. "I can't believe he'd do that to mom. And it seemed she couldn't really believe it either, from what I could hear. He blamed her for being so absent, and she blamed him for abandoning us all the time; he blamed her for the church meetings, she blamed him for making her shun uncle Max. It went on like that, like a constant cycle of accusations. And then at some point the front door slammed shut, and d—Robert just left."

"Nothing new there," Alec mumbled bitterly under his breath.

"No," Izzy agreed. "He didn't come back for a few days. I don't know where he was or what he did, and I don't really want to know, either. Mom was in pieces because we didn't know where Jace was—"

"Is he alright?" Alec cut in, worry creeping into his voice.

"He is," Izzy assured him. "He came back on Tuesday, said he'd stayed over at Helen's apartment with her and Aline. He's supposed to drop by later today."

"Okay," Alec breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, then." He paused. "So what happened after Robert came back?"

Izzy huffed a bitter laugh. "Well, it was Thursday morning. Me and Jace were getting ready to go to school, and mom was getting ready for work, and he just… waltzed in, unannounced, like nothing had happened. I guess he thought we'd all just go back to pretending like nothing's wrong, or something. As if that was even possible, anymore. He kissed mom on the cheek and said something along the lines of being glad all of his children were there – and Jace kind of lost it. He threw plates at dad, called him a coward and a liar and anything else you could possibly think of. I had to drag him away before it escalated too much."

Alec felt an odd surge of pride – but at the same time, he didn't want for Jace to fight his battles. "I take it that didn't go over well?"

"You could say that. Robert went on another tirade, I heard him from the living room. He and mom had another row, and then she said that she wanted him out of the house." She paused. "Permanently."

"Oh," Alec said. He couldn't say that he felt particularly shocked, nor that he was particularly pleased it had taken this long. Then he frowned. "But isn't the house in his name?"

Izzy shrugged, discarding the blankets wrapped around her. "Might be. He wasn't about to argue technicalities at that point, I guess. So, he packed his bags and left. And he hasn't been back since."

Alec stood up. He felt restless; he should have been there, but he suspected his presence would've only made matters worse. He couldn't help the niggling fear that this was all his fault – that without him, they could've pretended to be a family. Or could have  _been_ a family.

Izzy saw his expression, and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "This isn't on you," she said. "Don't even go there. This is on him, for cheating and for… for everything. For breaking us apart." She stopped, lowering her gaze to the floor. "Mom was really upset after he left. She wouldn't stop crying, but she refused help – so me and Jace just sort of, made the best of it. She's staying with a friend for a few days, and then we're selling the house."

"What about you? And Jace? Are you staying with her?" Alec asked. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he'd already internalized the fact that he wouldn't be joining them in any case – that he was in his home right now.

"Who knows," Izzy said noncommittedly. "I think I'll stay with her for a while, finish school, and then I might… me and Clary, we talked about moving to San Francisco."

"Oh." A smile slowly overtook Alec's face. "You and Clary, huh?"

Izzy blushed faintly, and shook her head. "It isn't like that," he argued. "She's just—we're friends. Anyway, she needs someone to split rent with, and I could probably find work in San Francisco, so, why not?"

"Seems logical," Alec agreed, his smile turning into a grin. "I'm sure that's the only reason you agreed."

In the blink of an eye, Izzy sobered up. She took a deep breath, and turned to look out the window. The sun was rising. "Well, I also read—I read that things were really bad in San Francisco, with… with AIDS. And I want to do something about it, so I figured – this is something I can do to help, you know? If I become a doctor, I could…" She drifted off.

Alec found himself speechless. He stared at Isabelle, who looked stern and determined in the early morning light, in the same way he could remember their mother looking when she'd been younger. He felt himself starting to choke up, and he swallowed it away, shaking his head.

"That's… that's very—" He blinked, and took a deep breath. "I'm proud of you."

She turned back to him, and smiled. Alec thought she might've looked a little teary-eyed as well – but it might've been the light. "Just doing my part," she shrugged. She glanced around the apartment with curiosity. "So, this is where you're living now?"

Alec huffed, smiling. "Yeah. There's the kitchen, and this is the living room, and there's the main bedroom and the guest one, currently occupied by Raphael."

She raised one brow. "Santiago? Why would he live here?"

"This place sort of doubles as a sanctuary," Alec explained. "For anyone who might need it."

Izzy let out an understanding  _ah_. "Is that what you are?" She asked, her eyes settling on Alec.

"I've been promoted to a permanent resident," he joked.

She laughed, propping her feet on the table and crossing her arms. "I hope you pay rent, at least," she mused.

Alec realized with sudden horror that he didn't. "Is that something I should do?" He asked, wide eyed. "I need to get a job."

Before Izzy could reply, there was knocking on the front door again. This time it was slightly frantic, and accompanied by Jace's voice calling out Alec's name.

"Alec, if you're not in there I swear to God, I will knock on every single fucking door in this complex—"

He fell shut when Alec opened the door. He stumbled backwards a few steps, and blinked up at Alec with a worried expression. Alec took note of the purple bruise colouring his jawline, and pursed his lips for a brief second.

"Jace," Alec said, and then, not knowing what else to do, stepped closer to wrap Jace in an awkward hug that lasted only for a little while. "What the hell happened to you?" He continued after he drew back, eyeing Jace up and down.

Jace shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I just—Robert was saying things I didn't… I had to leave. Figured it'd blow over sooner or later. But then I came back and you were gone and Robert was gone and Izzy was saying we'd go see you on the weekend—is she here? Can I come in?"

Alec stepped aside to allow Jace to walk in to the apartment, and closed the door behind them. Izzy had moved on to inspect the bookshelf, her fingers tracing the backs of the novels. She turned back at the sound of footsteps, and smiled at the two of them.

"Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Lightwoods, back together."

"Either of you want a drink?" Alec asked. "I feel like that might be overdue."

Jace flopped down on the couch. "Whatever you have in the house," he said. "I don't mind."

Alec checked the kitchen. "Wine? Whiskey?" He called out. He paused, moving some bottles around. "Vodka?"

He heard Izzy's startled laughter. "It's nine in the morning," she replied.

"So?" Jace chimed in. "It's just one glass."

Alec settled on pouring a glass of whiskey for Jace, red wine for Izzy and vodka for himself. He returned to the living room with the drinks and they all sat down. Jace gulped half of his drink down in one go and then shuddered, eyeing the glass.

"This is some strong stuff," he commented with a frown. "Jesus."

"Magnus knows people," Alec shrugged.

Jace lifted a brow. "'Knows people', really? You're not James Bond, you know."

"Maybe Magnus is," Izzy mumbled into her drink.

Alec choked on his vodka, and his cough soon turned into laughter. "I wouldn't be surprised," he agreed, hoarsely.

They all sat in silence for a little while.

"So," Alec started eventually. "I heard you stayed with Aline and Helen?"

Jace nodded slowly, staring at the carpet. "I didn't really have anywhere else to be, and I didn't want to be at the house with…" He drifted off. "Well, anyway, I went to Helen's, and obviously, Aline was there as well, so. I told them vaguely about the situation and they let me bunk on the couch for a few nights. Eventually they forced me to go confront the situation."

"Tuesday?" Izzy asked.

"Yeah," Jace confirmed. "I came back, expecting us to be pretending things were alright – but clearly that wasn't happening. Izzy told me what had gone down and I—I don't know. I should've been there, you know? I should've been there."

Alec shrugged, sipping his drink. "We all deal with things our own way. It's fine."

Jace didn't seem to believe him, but he nodded regardless. "Anyway, everyone was acting weird and Robert wasn't in the house, and then Izzy suggested we go see you on the weekend – let you settle in, or something."

"Could've called," Alec mumbled.

Izzy shrugged. Her other arm was protectively curled around her. "I didn't want to cause a hassle," she explained. "I couldn't have explained everything on the phone, and it would've only made everything seem worse when we didn't even know ourselves how things would unfold."

"Makes sense," Alec agreed. "Sorry for… well."

Izzy smiled softly. "I think the last people who need to apologize to each other are the three of us," she said. "We need to stick together."

"Agreed," Jace said. He drank the rest of his whiskey and leaned back against the couch. "So, we all know what happened to me and Izzy – what about you, Alec?"

Alec hummed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "Well, nothing as dramatic as you two. After the whole thing with Robert, I… I left. He didn't want me there, I didn't want to be there. So, I came here to sleep the night and then I sort of… stayed. And I guess I'll keep staying, for as long as I can." He paused, smiling. "I've been spending quality time with Raphael and Simon."

Jace snorted. "I don't think any time with Raphael Santiago is quality time."

Izzy shot him a look. "I'm sure he's a lovely person," she drawled.

"I wouldn't say  _lovely_ ," Alec smiled. "I think  _person_ might be arguable as well."

They all laughed, and Alec thought it felt like they were, finally, at peace. Maybe their family was now a little broken, and a little bit messed up – but they were all together, here, laughing. And it was alright.

They talked the rest of the morning away – Jace was going to drop out of school to become a mechanic, and move to Seattle whenever he had the money for it. He swore he'd quit the drinking, or at least make it a casual thing, and Alec believed him. They all planned on taking a trip down to California soon, to see their uncle and to make amends. Izzy was going to tell Maryse to visit whenever she so wished, but Alec doubted she'd be around for a little while at least – she needed time to heal, and to adapt to the circumstances.

It was around two in the afternoon that Izzy and Jace were lounging by the door, making their leave.

"Keep in touch, yeah?" Alec asked, smiling a little. "Let me know where you are and what's going on."

"I'll try," Jace said at the same time as Izzy said, "We promise."

Alec waved them off with a laugh, watching as his siblings disappeared down the staircase.

He settled back on the couch and picked up his book, the content smile never once leaving his face.

 

_Three Months Later_

 

"Oh, come on," Magnus rolled his eyes, reaching over to take the record out of Alec's hands. "It's not that bad."

"I'm not saying it's bad, I'm saying it's cheesy," Alec laughed, handing it over. "You have to admit that it is."

Magnus eyed the cover of  _Faith_ , and made a face. "Okay, fine, it's a little cheesy," he allowed. "But we have to put it up, it's a Billboard hit. People are buying these in masses."

"We can write something nice on a board," Alec suggested. "Support your local gays?"

"George Michael is neither local nor gay," Magnus argued, writing  _BILLBOARD HIT – 'FAITH', NOW $3.99_ on a piece of cardboard he set up in front of the record pile.

Alec propped himself up on the counter, watching Magnus go and flip the CLOSED sign to OPEN. He smiled, picking up a pen and writing ' _discretely gay'_ underneath the original advertisement while Magnus had his back turned.

"Have you even heard Father Figure?" He asked, setting both the pen and the advertisement back down. "You're no fun when it comes to gossip."

He heard Magnus sigh in a way he thought might've been either fond, irritated, or fondly irritated. "I don't think people's sexualities are anyone's business but their own," he concluded, moving to arrange the records of the A-C section.

"It's not like I'm going to go up to him and  _ask_ ," Alec said defensively. "I'm just curious. Aren't you?"

He saw Magnus shrug. "Sometimes, sure. Of course. Isn't everyone?"

Alec hopped down from the counter and sauntered over to Magnus, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind and pressing his chin against Magnus' shoulder. "Then how come we don't ever have wine induced gossip nights?" He asked, reaching out to pick up  _Bad_ from the mass of records. "Can I keep this?"

"We don't have wine induced gossip sessions because you hate wine," Magnus reminded him with a snort. "But we can make vodka induced gossip sessions a thing." He paused. "And yes, but that's the last record for this week. We do have a business to run, Alexander."

Alec hummed, and pressed an absentminded kiss to Magnus' jawline. "Yeah, but what's the fun in running a record store if you can't reap the benefits?" He asked. "Besides, who buys Jackson anymore?"

Magnus turned around in his arms, smiling. "Lots of people. Didn't you hear? He might be bisexual."

"Bullshit," Alec grinned, leaning closer to kiss Magnus on the nose. "Don't mess with my heart like that."

"Oh, what, you have a thing for him?" Magnus asked, pretending to gasp in shock. "My, my, Alec."

"It seems I only have a thing for slightly eccentric bisexuals with too big of a heart for their own good," Alec replied, still smiling. "Would you know anyone like that? I'd love to meet him."

Magnus put on a pondering face. "I'm not sure. Would  _you_ know anyone melodramatic and snarky with a heart of gold?"

"Yeah," Alec replied, trying not to laugh. "I think I know exactly who were both thinking about."

"You mean Simon, don't you," Magnus said, at the same time as Alec said, "You're thinking about Raphael."

They both burst into laughter, the sound filling the otherwise empty store.

In the background, one song faded into another, and Alec's smile turned soft.

"I've always wanted this to be played at my wedding," he told Magnus quietly.

"Well, one day it might," Magnus replied. "Times change."

"But nothing's gonna change my love for you," Alec said, slightly out of tune with the song.

"I'll never ask for more than your love," Magnus replied, and Alec grinned, and leaned closer to steal a kiss—

And the sun climbed up, casting light on another sunny February day in New York.


End file.
